


Twisting in the Wind

by josephina_x



Series: Being Adopted is Easy, It's -Life- That's Hard! [2]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Gen, Other, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephina_x/pseuds/josephina_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark catches someone's attention. A <i>lot</i> of someones' attention. Things go from bad to worse several times. --But on the plus side? Lex loves him like a brother. ...Oh, and apparently two girls kissing is really, <i>really</i> hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Morning, Let's Go For A Drive

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to get myself in trouble, cleaning out my backlog/buffer like this, but... well, here's the first chapter for this one, too ^_^
> 
> Remember: The timeline was sped up just a tad -- Clark got the truck the same afternoon as the bridge collision, not the next day.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Clark woke up the next morning on the couch alone.

...Well, mostly alone. Lex had a laptop out, and was working at a desk over by the large windows.

He glanced up at having seen Clark's movement and smiled at him, then closed the laptop, stood up, and ushered him off to breakfast.

Clark sheepishly let himself be corralled out of the library.

They dodged a few hurried, harried-looking people, and Clark held a door open or two, before they finally made their way into the kitchen, and the hub of the hubub of flurried activity.

Clark's eyes widened as he tried to take it all in.

"Ah, Mr. Luthor!" an older matronly-looking woman declared, bustling over from the stove and wiping her hands on a clean towel. "There you are! What would you like for breakfast, dear? --Oh!" she said glancing up at Clark and frowning. "And what are _you_ doing over there, standing about with nothing to do!"

Clark winced, but Luthor smoothly inserted, "He's a friend, and a guest, Beatrice, not one of the new groundstaff."

"Oh." The woman blinked at him with a very different sort of frown. "I see," she said slowly.

...Well, Clark sure didn't. He wasn't sure what to make of _that_ tone at all. Lex seemed to take it in stride, though it made Clark feel... really uncomfortable.

"Um, Lex..." Clark said, tugging at his elbow lightly. "Maybe we should just get some cereal and get out of everybody's way..." It looked like people were coming and going with all sorts of foodstuffs, basic supplies, and the like, being carted in the back door and down to the kitchen's cellars, while large piles of cleaning supplies and linens and boxes and other errata were being piled onto carts and moved out into the central hallway of the mansion.

" _Cereal?!?!_ " Ms. Beatrice exclaimed, looked shocked, and Clark flinched a little. " _ **Cold** cereal??!!_ In _this_ house! I shan't have it!!" she declared firmly, with a thunderous frown, whatever previous reservations she'd had completely forgotten at Clark's well-meaning suggestion. "You'll both be having a proper breakfast, not some--" she grumbled in clear offense as she turned to the stove and started calling out orders to some of the... assistants? lesser staff? ... to get her things, like eggs, milk, fruit, pans, and such.

Clark knew a losing proposition when he heard one. He slowly backed out of the kitchen by inches, back into the hallway where it was probably a bit safer.

Lex took a little longer to make his escape, but when he did he did it with a smirk on his face.

"Um..." Clark said, suddenly wondering if he should be worried.

"Beatrice is going to need a bit to get things together for breakfast," Lex explained kindly. "Most of the supplies for the mansion were due to arrive this morning, and will continue to do so throughout the rest of the day. I've made her aware of the situation with the gas lines; while we apparently have the ingredients for the meal out and accessible, as well as the cooking utensils, she's sent off for a small propane gas stove or two for the interim."

"Okay..." Clark said uneasily. "But--"

_\--you really don't have to feed me,_ was what he was going to say, but Lex cut him off with, "So we shall have some time to pick up your school things and a change of clothing."

Clark blinked at him.

"Um..." said Clark.

"...I know you might be a bit worried about dealing with your parents," Lex began, "and I know that your father doesn't particularly like me or my father, but if I come with you, then he would most likely focus on me and my presence, and you could slip in and get whatever you need for school and get out again, with the excuse of needing to make it there on time, while I distract him by taking the blame for your overnight stay here--"

"-- _No!_ " Clark blurted out. Lex blinked, looking slightly... shocked? --and Clark rushed to explain: "I-- we don't have to talk with them."

Lex blinked at him again.

"We don't?" he said in mild confusion, slipping his hands into his pockets.

Clark shook his head. "I mean, I... I have some spare clothes in the barn, and I left my bookbag there yesterday afternoon before..." _I came over and crashed your house uninvited_. "You don't need to run interference for me with them. We can avoid them," Clark said, both hopefully, while also dreading the eventual fallout when his folks finally _did_ catch up with him.

Lex frowned slightly, but said easily, "If you really think that you can slip in and out without confronting them..."

Clark nodded. "I might be able to get Pete to cover for me. Say I stayed the night at his house even though I didn't." Because, man, if his dad ever got wind of Clark _breaking into_ the Luthor mansion, and _then_ running into Lex Luthor himself, and _then_ **staying the night**...

"...You don't think they'll..." Lex trailed off, then finally added, "...worry about you if they don't hear anything at all?"

Clark shook his head. "They probably think I crashed at Pete's place and forgot to call. They'd be _annoyed_ about that, not..." Clark bit his lip absently.

"Fair enough," Lex said, turning and strolling down the hallway. "As long as you're sure you can avoid them; I don't like the idea of you having to confront them alone."

Clark blushed slightly and wondered why he felt like smiling all of a sudden.

"Hey," he said, suddenly realizing. "You're wearing what you did yesterday."

"Ah," Lex said, then coughed slightly in embarrassment. "I thought it prudent to perhaps wait until you yourself also had a change of clothing before trying out the water heater and... thoroughly testing the pipes," he ended.

Clark thought about some of the boxes in the kitchen.

"You totally don't have any towels for the bathrooms or a spare change of clothing either, do you," he said, grinning.

"I am _certain_ that it will all be in place by the time we get back," Lex said haughtily, as he opened the door at the other end of the hallway.

"Uh huh," Clark said, still grinning. "You totally didn't pack anything? Not even throw a spare change of clothes into a suitcase? Or a toothbrush?" he teased.

"I'll have you know I am perfectly capable of packing wisely, Kent," Lex said warningly. "It's just that the contents of my suitcase ended up thoroughly soaked at the bottom of a river yesterday, and as a rule most of my clothing is not waterproof," he said, giving Clark a look as he flicked on the lights before striding into the room.

"Oh," said Clark, now feeling kind of like a heel, and then he got a good look at the room -- the garage -- they'd just stepped into.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," said Clark, wide-eyed as he looked around at all the pretty, pretty cars. He couldn't help but stop and stare.

Lex walked over and came to a stop next to a rather nice looking sportscar, before glancing back over his shoulder at Clark in slight confusion at Clark's not having followed him.

Then he got a slight smile.

"Come on, Clark," he said, with a rich undertone of amusement to his voice. "You can drool over my cars later."

"So pretty," Clark said, dazed, then shook himself and blushed up a storm because, oh god, mortified much? It was like he'd never seen a fancy car before! Lex was _totally_ gonna laugh at him and--

\--yeah, ok, his eyes seemed to be sparkling with laughter, but not the mean kind. Huh.

Suddenly, Clark didn't feel so ashamed of his behavior.

Clark trotted over and asked, "Were these here yesterday?"

"Mm hmm," Lex said, sliding into the driver's seat.

Clark was careful getting in. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally dent yet _another_ of Lex's cars. "So, why didn't you have a spare?" he asked.

Lex glanced over at him quizzically.

"For your suitcase," Clark said. "I mean, you're rich, right? If you've got, like, extra extra-awesome-cars then, well, why wouldn't you pack a spare suitcase or two in _their_ trunks, too?"

Lex looked at Clark like the idea had honestly never occurred to him.

"Uh, nevermind, I'm probably being stupid," Clark muttered, blushing again in shame and slouching lower in the passenger's seat.

There was a pause, then: "Not at all," Lex murmured. "It's actually a rather legitimate question, and a very good idea. I'll have to remember that, the next time I might be taking a lengthy trip to a dangerous stretch of the countryside."

Clark bit his lip, sunk a little lower in his seat, and felt even worse.

"It's really not that bad most of the time," Clark said, feeling like he should defend his hometown at least a _little_ bit. "The guys who set up the hauling trucks are usually really good about tying things down, and even if there's an accident like that, they usually notice they dropped part of the load right away."

"Oh, I wasn't referring to that," Lex said, as he slipped a key in the ignition. "I was referring to the crime rates and death toll."

" _\--What??_ " Clark said in shock, head snapping around and spine straightening. He stared at Lex.

Lex just glanced over at him with a frown as he started the engine. "I looked up the statistics the evening before last; the murder rate here is worse than some areas of Suicide Slums."

Clark's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not," Lex said evenly as he put the car into gear.

"But--" Clark felt really confused. "But I've never felt unsafe around town. I... I don't know what..." He tried to think of an explanation.

"Are you sure it wasn't just natural causes and stuff?" he asked. "I mean, we've got the huge retirement center and--"

"Crime statistics, Clark," Lex said, effectively ending the discussion.

Clark didn't know what to think. "But it's not like we have gang wars and shootouts and stuff, not like the city," he said. "I... I don't know... maybe the numbers got messed up," he said finally, slumping in his seat. "Maybe they, um, shifted the decimal place by one? Accidentally?"

"You seem awfully sure of that," Lex said, glancing over at Clark again as they went roaring down the drive.

"Well, I can't think of there being _that_ many murders in town -- I mean, I'm sure Chloe would have said something, you know?"

"Hm," Lex said noncommittally as they made it out the gates and turned towards town.

"Besides," said Clark. "Why would your dad make you live here if it was really that unsafe? If it was that bad, couldn't you just commute in from Metropolis or something?" Clark pointed out. "I mean, a two-hour drive every morning and evening would suck, but..."

Lex glanced over at him, but didn't seem to have anything to say to that.

"I mean, you have a place to live in Metropolis, right?"

Lex's jaw flexed, as did his hands around the steering wheel.

"...Lex?" Clark said, unsure of what he'd done wrong.

"I've been exiled here, Clark," he said finally, roughly. "I'm not allowed to leave the town without his permission."

Clark stared.

"But you're twenty-one," Clark said, totally not getting it. "You're an adult."

"And if I want to stay in my father's good graces, I'll do what he says," Lex ground out.

Clark shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Oh," he said, finally, slowly dropping his eyes until he was staring at his feet.

Lex was silent as he wove his car through the middle of town, and had to stop at a stoplight. So was Clark.

When the light turned green and they were moving again, Lex breathed out a sigh and said tiredly, "I'm sorry for insulting your home."

Clark looked up at him.

"I mean... it's not exactly the worse place to be 'exiled' to..." Lex said, sounding almost embarrassed.

"Oh," Clark said, finally getting it. "No, it's ok. Compared to Metropolis... I've heard Chloe say all that stuff before. I'm used to it," he smiled slightly.

"That doesn't make it right," Lex said quietly. "I shouldn't have said what I did. It was rude, regardless of what comparison anyone else might make. I don't mean to insult your home."

"Well, I didn't mean to insult your home last night, either," Clark said, and blushed at Lex's surprised look. "I mean, the mansion's cool and all, but..." Clark shrugged. "You're from Metropolis, and like Metropolis. I'm from Smallville, and like..." he trailed off.

"Do you, really?" Lex asked. "Have you ever been to Metropolis?"

Clark smiled weakly. "Yeah, once or twice. For ballgames, with my dad." But then he frowned slightly and looked over at Lex as it occurred to him... "Probably not the same though, right?"

"No, probably not," Lex echoed. He frowned slightly, shifted into a higher gear as they finally left the Main Street shops behind, and said, "So, I know that your house is on the other side of town from the mansion, and I think I remember the address, but I have honestly no idea..."

Clark laughed slightly, and started pointing out turns, explaining landmarks, and giving distances, just like he would with anyone else.

Maybe some things weren't so different, after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	2. Home, School, Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah. Bet you guys thought I'd forgotten about this one, didn'tcha? ;)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Clark was able to get in and get out with his parents none-the-wiser. ...Well, or at least grabbing him as he zoomed by. One of those two.

Lex had parked about a mile down the road from the farmhouse, and Clark had jogged out of sight into the corn and then zoomed around at a decent clip. He grabbed his stuff and then got a few chores done, just so his folks wouldn't get too suspicious about his absence, before shoving his clothes inside his backpack, shouldering it and jogging back. He even checked his watch to make sure he wasn't getting himself into trouble, time-wise, making sure that he didn't get back to Lex too fast or anything like that.

So, yeah. That had gone fine. So had the drive back. Clark had even got to tease Lex a little; he had weird taste in music, all classical. He was totally trying to impress somebody or something and Clark was so gonna catch him at it sometime when he was listening to something _real_ ; he'd declared himself a personal promise on that one. Lex had just smiled at that. And then there was breakfast at the mansion...

\--which was okay, too. Whatever Lex had said to Ms. Beatrice before, after Clark had sort of... fled... the kitchen, had had her treating him like a 'poor dear', now. Clark wasn't sure how he felt about that, exactly, but she wasn't mad, so he figured it was probably okay and he wasn't going to worry about it.

They got to eat in the library, which was a plus because it was actually pretty awesome in there, now that Clark got a good look at the place. It even had a balcony over the door! He'd totally missed all the stained glass the day before, and been too embarrassed and distracted earlier to have really noticed that it hadn't just been the sunrise making the whole place look decked out in color. He had to worry about getting food on the couch, even with the sheets on it -- they weren't that thick -- but he managed not to mess up too badly (at all), even if table manners were kind of hard when you were pretty much eating off of a plate balanced on your knees.

Lex didn't seem to have a problem with it, though. Clark started to realize that Lex was pretty much cool-suave-whatever all the time, without seeming slick or fake or anything. He was the real deal.

It kind of made Clark worry about what would happen when Lex finally realized that there wasn't really anything in Clark worth wasting his time hanging out with Clark-the-teenaged-social-outcast-geek over.

Well, worst-case, Lex would probably be nice about it when it had to happen. He seemed nice, anyway. Really nice.

Once they'd finished breakfast and returned the plates and silverware and stuff to the kitchen, Lex had sort-of shooed him off to the east wing, upstairs, in front of him as he walked. Then they'd both gotten showers and then changed.

So, basically, Lex had been two-for-two about the food and hot-water-and-towels-and-his-clothing-and-shower-stuff being ready by the time they got back. (...Not five-for-five, because the second part only got to count as one thing, since the hot water wasn't too big a deal and the rest was all in the same load of stuff being dragged into the mansion. So there.)

This left Clark shouldering his backpack and fidgeting in the hallway by the garage door, waiting for Lex, who was casually strolling towards him, absently checking his cufflinks.

"Ready to go?" Lex asked him.

"Um. Are you sure?" Clark asked. "I mean, you don't have to drive me. I can run myself there."

"We're a good bit from the center of town," Lex pointed out. "I'd rather not have you late for school."

Clark started to object, but realized that he couldn't exactly say he wouldn't be late if he ran.

Lex got a slight smile. "I insist," the man said properly, "so now you _can't_ say no," he ended firmly, but with a twinkle of humor in his eyes.

Clark tried to suppress a grin, and just nodded and shrugged. "Oops?" he said, then dropped his head. "-- _Darn,_ " he added, kicking at the ground. "Guess I should've escaped while I still had the chance."

Clark really liked making Lex smile.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Getting driven to school by Lex was both cool and a little weird. Cool because, well, Lex had awesome cars, duh! But weird because he was used to either running to school or taking the bus, and only his mom ever drove him to school anymore. Lex wasn't his _mom_ , geez.

Clark worried a little over whether or not he should ask Lex to drop him off around the back of the school. He didn't want Lex to feel like Clark was trying to hide him or something, but he also worried about whether Lex would think he was trying to use him to get a better social reputation at school or something, being driven to school by the town's new millionaire resident, of all people. But Clark couldn't think of a way to bring any of it up without sounding stupid, so he just kept his mouth shut.

So, Lex ended up dropping him off by the front entrance. Luckily, Clark was almost late for the morning bell by this point, so practically no-one was around outside anymore. The few stragglers who were were way too busy trying to get inside to class quickly to stop for anything. That made Clark sigh in relief because he wouldn't have wanted Lex stampeded by the upperclassmen -- because yes Lex's car _was_ just that awesome -- but he wouldn't have wanted Lex to think bad things about him either.

He remembered to be gentle when closing the door, and the happy sort of smirk Lex got when Clark thanked him totally made the weird part worth it.

"I'll see you after school, then?" Lex asked, putting on a pair of sunglasses.

Clark's eyebrows went up.

"You sure?" Clark asked.

"You have an open invitation to come over any time, Clark," Lex told him. "I didn't mean just the once."

"Um." Clark shifted from foot to foot, readjusting his backpack as he stared at the ground.

"...unless you'd rather I just meet you here so I can come with you to your parents' farm for moral support?" Lex added.

" _No!_ " Clark blurted out, his head snapping up in horror. "I don't want to--!"

He swallowed at the calm, concerned, _patient_ look Lex was giving him.

"I, I mean... I just... --are you sure it's okay? Crashing at your place again?" Clark blurted out, shuffling his feet. "I don't want to impose."

"You won't be," Lex said with a smile. He revved the engine. "I'll look forward to picking you up later."

 _He's looking forward to seeing me._ Clark blushed at the thought.

"What time?" Lex asked.

"Two-fifteen," Clark told him, feeling a wave of relief hit him, and tension he hadn't realized he'd been feeling unwound from under his shoulders. He wouldn't have to go home and face his parents about the alien stuff. Not yet.

"Two-fifteen it is, then," Lex smiled.

Clark waved and turned to start jogging into the building as Lex pulled away.

It was a little late, but not that late. The first-period bell hadn't quite rung yet. So Clark hurried to his locker through both the crush of late students rushing to homeroom to quickly check in, and the on-time students heading for their first class of the day.

"Hey, Clark!" Chloe said, bouncing up to him with Pete trailing behind. Her eyes were bright with suppressed... something-or-another. Well, whatever it was, she'd tell him in another second or two -- Chloe couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

"Uh, hey, Chloe," Clark said, with a little amusement, turning towards her and closing his locker. "Aren't you a little too excited for Homecoming?" Chloe had a thing against jocks, and maybe school spirit in general. Something about 'the masses' and 'organized sports' being for 'dull-minded cretins'.

"Homecoming-shmomecoming," Chloe said, "What the heck is up with _you?!_ " she asked, punching him in the arm, and getting her intense 'I'm after a story' look on.

"Uh... what?" Clark said, his amusement fading fast. "What about me?" Chloe looking into him wasn't a good thing -- she was a budding bulldog reporter, and liked to tell everybody so. Worse for him, she was actually kind of good at it.

"I think what she means is what the hell is up with you and _Luthor_ ," Pete spat out angrily. "What the hell was _that_ this morning?" he asked.

Clark stared down at his best friend. "What was what this morning?" he asked slowly, glancing between Pete and Chloe. How could anybody have heard about him staying over at Lex's for the night so soon?!

"You, driving around town in Luthor's car with him!" Pete said angrily. "What did you _think_ I was talking about!?"

Clark winced. "Pete, geez," he said. "That was..." Oh man, he could _not_ talk about this out in the hallway here. He glanced around nervously, adjusting his backpack strap, and leaned in. "Look, can we talk about this later?" he asked lowly.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Pete spat out. "Do you know what he did to my family?!"

"Hey," Clark frowned, pulling back. "Lex was, like, nine. _He_ didn't do anything to anybody," Clark defended. _That wasn't his fault._ Pete was being hugely unfair.

"That doesn't mean it's okay for you to be offering yourself up as that limp-wristed little fag's..." Pete trailed off, looking sick.

Clark looked down at him, feeling a little disgust of his own. "Geezus, Pete. I'm pretty sure the guy's not gay, but even if he was, I really don't see why that should matter **at all** ," he said in descending tones, straightening up to his full height. He never would've thought Pete was... that he thought... _That is so **wrong!**_

"Woah, woah!" Chloe said, stepping forward with both hands raised as Pete jerked back, "That's really not what he-- meant..." At Clark's look of confusion they exchanged a quick glance.

"Don't you care what people are saying?!" Pete burst out angrily.

Clark sighed impatiently. "Look, I've been at the mansion all morning." He paused. "Okay, well, most of the morning." He barely resisted an eyeroll, because apparently his personal life was a huge deal to the town now, _how?!?_ "So could maybe one of you just tell me straight-up what people have been--"

"People have been saying that you stayed over at the mansion last night," Chloe said abruptly, watching him. "That you... that things haven't been going well at the farm lately for you and your folks," she said more slowly.

Clark sighed again. Some days he really hated the town's gossip network, because, seriously, he manages to stay off the radar of everybody for years, and now _this?_ "--And?" he prompted impatiently.

Chloe and Pete exchanged another look. "--And that because of all the money troubles, your parents kind of sold you to Lex as his underage rentboy to help make ends meet," she said quickly, and they both stared up at him, looking angry and upset.

Clark stared back at the two of them.

And then the words hit.

" _ **WHAT?!?**_ " Clark shrieked, and he risked a moment where he almost pulled two handfuls of hair out of his own head. "That's-- that's--" he sputtered, before feeling a core of steel inside that spread outwards fast. " _That's not what happened._ " Clark glared down at the two of them. "That's not what happened _**at all**_."

"Well, then where'd the truck come from?" Chloe asked, as Pete started to frown.

 _Erk_. Suddenly Clark felt like he was on the defensive again, because he'd _seen_ Pretty Woman -- Chloe had made them him and Pete both watch on a lost bet, and cackled away the entire time. "That wasn't-- I mean-- it's not what you think!" he stammered out, turning red. He knew about 'presents' and stuff, and what rich people were supposed to expect for them in return... if they came unprompted, anyway. "There was this thing, at the bridge yesterday--" How did Chloe not know about the accident already? "You know what? It doesn't even matter. Dad said I have to give it back, anyway," he muttered darkly. "And I already told Lex last night."

"Wait, wait, hold on," Chloe said, staring up at him. "You mean you _really spent the night at his place?_ " Her voice went up three octaves.

Clark added up 'rentboy' with 'staying the night' and got... "That's not-- I just--" _Oh, god._ "He has, like, forty-two bedrooms, and--!" _Wait, no, that doesn't work,_ Clark realized, turning red, because that made it sound like he knew that because they'd... and not because they'd been checking for leaks. "I mean--" _what am I gonna say, we didn't sleep together?_ That was kind of a lie -- he'd fallen asleep in Lex's arms on the couch, for god's sake. He couldn't even say that they'd slept in separate bedrooms. He felt himself turning even more red. "That's not--" Clark grumbled to himself, getting angry that he couldn't properly explain, because they'd never believe him, not with _that_ kind of rumor going around.

"Clark..." Chloe began.

"No!" Clark said. "It's-- it's a _good thing_ I went over there!" he began. "Because... because..." _I was feeling awful and couldn't go home and Lex helped me feel better,_ except he couldn't say that, either. Not out here in the _hallway_. But then he realized something else.

"You know, he nearly blew the house up!" Clark told them, because, honestly, it _was_ a good thing for Lex that he'd gone over there, too. "--I mean, not house. Mansion. Home. Thing. Whatever it's called." _Er_. "--Not on purpose. I helped. --With the not-blowing-it-up part, I mean. It would've been an accident. --The blowing-up part. Not the not-blowing-up part." Clark stopped for some air and cringed at the stares he was getting from his friends. "...What?" he said defensively.

Then he realized that his two friends weren't the only ones staring at him. And that it was kind of quiet all around him. And that maybe he'd been kind of yelling a bit. Loudly.

"I'm not gay!" he yelled quickly, realizing that this was a point that he should probably make really quickly, because it was bad enough being a socially-inept loser freak, and an alien on top of that, but being thought to be a _gay_ socially-inept loser freak by half the student population was liable to get him pounded by the idiot football team even worse than the former, which at least had a certain anonymity associated with it. Gay guys, not so much. "I mean, at most I'd be bi!" he exclaimed, "--not that I think of Lex like that," he added hurriedly, turning a little red, because yeah the guy was cool and nice and stuff, and yeah, sure Clark liked him, just... not _that_ way... but it wasn't like he knew how to explain that, exactly. "--And _not like there's anything wrong with any of that **if I was**_ ," he added, glaring at Pete.

"Dude, I didn't mean it like _that_ ," Pete said under his breath, looking super-uncomfortable.

"--But I'd think you guys would know better than that," Clark continued, a little lower, "because you've known that I've had a crush on Lana since forever and love her--"

Then Clark jolted, startled, as an arm shot by his head and a fist **slammed** into the lockers. An arm attached to one Whitney Fordman, who was leaning in towards him, looking pissed off.

"--not that I still have a crush on her or anything, or would ever do anything about that if I did, it's just that she's really pretty --nice! and pretty, and pretty nice, and everybody loves her a little, and hi, Whitney, how are you?" Clark ended with a weak smile, thinking that maybe hanging out with Lex was rubbing off on him, because when his mouth had run away from him there, he had _almost_ sounded a little smooth for a second or two, instead of like a **complete** loser geek.

Oh, yeah, and to make his humiliation complete? Lana was standing across the hallway, from where Whitney had probably left her walking her to class, _watching them_. Which meant she had probably heard him, too.

"Everybody loves my girl, huh?" Whitney said in light tones and a teasing smile, but his angry eyes spoke otherwise.

"Um, yes?" Clark said. "I mean, ask anybody. Really," he added, nodding, thin smile plastered on.

Whitney's eyes narrowed. "Because she's really _pretty_.... nice."

 _Oh god, I am going to die,_ thought Clark.

Then he remembered the bridge yesterday.

 _Oh god, if Whitney tries to punch me he's probably going to break his hand, and then we'll lose at Homecoming because he can't throw, and then everybody will kill me, and I am going to die,_ Clark realized, pushing himself back against the lockers a bit.

Then something else occurred to him. _Oh god, if he punches me and breaks his hand, everybody's gonna **know** I'm a freak, and, and then the alien thing, and then -- oh **shit** \-- what do I--_

"Oh, yeah, everybody loves Lana," Chloe piped up.

Clark froze. Whitney paused.

"I mean, she's just so _pretty_ ," Chloe said, in a tone that was a little...

Clark's and Whitney's heads swiveled towards her like they were caught on a string. They stared at her as she walked over to Lana. So did Pete.

Then she reached out and ran two fingers through a lock of Lana's hair.

" _Really_ pretty," Chloe breathed out, with an undertone that was... "--Isn't her hair _gorgeous?_ " she smiled over her shoulder winningly at the three of them, sparks in her eyes, as her hand fell to Lana's shoulder.

Lana... was sort of staring at Chloe, too, kind of uncertainly.

Clark, wisely, chose not to respond.

Lana, starting to frown, opened her mouth to say... something. They never found out what it was.

Because at that moment Chloe turned back to Lana and kissed her.

Like, open-mouth kissed her.

With tongue.

At least, that was what it looked like.

 _Uh..._ was pretty much the only semi-coherent thought Clark was having at that point. It was like they were the only two people in the hallway that mattered right then.

Lana didn't seem to know what to do with her hands ...but she wasn't exactly pushing Chloe away, either.

Clark had a feeling that he shouldn't be watching this, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from them.

There was dead silence except for...

Chloe finally ended it, stepping back. She looked like the cat that ate the canary.

"Yup," she said, bopping Lana lightly on the nose with a finger, " _Super_ -cute."

And then she turned and she grinned at them all, nothing but her peppy energetic self, like everything was completely normal and fine. And then she turned and walked away.

Clark, Pete, and Whitney watched Chloe walk away.

"Wow..." said Pete, kind of in awe.

Clark was wordless. He felt kind of weirdly warm -- was he wearing too many layers indoors? -- and when had Chloe gotten so _hot?_

...Maybe it was a Metropolis thing?

There was an odd sound, and the three of them turned back to Lana.

Lana looked a little breathless, and her eyes were glazed over. She also looked... really confused. She was leaning back against the wall like she might fall over if she didn't. She blinked a few times, then seemed to come back a little from wherever her mind had been.

She slowly raised a hand, and touched her fingers to her lips.

And then she gazed down the hallway after Chloe.

And started to turn pink.

Whitney's jaw clacked shut, and Clark glanced back to him, realizing that that meant his jaw must've been hanging open at some point.

Whitney, slowly turning red, stomped forward and grabbed Lana by the arm.

"Whit--" Lana half-protested, but he turned her and they kept moving on down the hallway, though Whitney tossed a killer glare back over his shoulder the way Chloe had left.

That seemed to be a signal for everyone else, because the hallway started to clear out.

"Wow," Pete repeated, eyes wide. "I mean... --oh man, did you _see_ that?" Pete said, turning to lookup at him.

"Uh huh," said Clark, still staring after Chloe. He may or may not have swallowed his tongue at some point.

"I mean..." Pete flailed about for words. "Did you _see that?!?_ "

"Uh huh," Clark repeated, as his brain began to un-melt. "...I think I may not be old enough to see stuff like that," Clark put out there weakly.

Pete just laughed. Then he stopped.

"Chloe... is lesbian?" Pete said, sounding slightly strangled, and a little lost.

Clark considered what he'd just seen for a bit. "Nah, Pete," he reassured him. "Chloe? Is awesome. And a lifesaver." He thought for another second. "And a genius."

"What?" said Pete. Then he got it. "Oh _man_ ," he grinned.

Clark started to grin back, too. Because Chloe? Had saved him from Whitney.

Not only that, she'd done it in a way that was (a) completely gonna pull the attention off of him and Lex, because Whitney and Lana were way more the talk of the town than some new guy and _Clark_ , and (b)? There way _no way_ Whitney could get back at Chloe for this. Whit could beat up guys, but what could he do to a girl?

Plus, girls kissing girls? Oddly, kind of hot.

"...This is totally gonna screw with Whitney's head, isn't it?" Clark said, glancing down at Pete, who groaned and half-laughed, slapping a palm against his forehead.

"As if the guy isn't psycho enough!" Pete said a little fearfully under his breath. Whitney was extremely possessive of his girlfriend, and already got on the case of anybody who looked twice at her. The guys in town who panted after Lana, yeah, Whitney could push them around and get away with it, but the girls? With the seed of doubt Chloe had planted... He was going to have to watch _everybody_ now -- including the other cheerleaders. And the cheersquad would totally ice him out if he tried to sit in on them wherever they went, glowering at them all like a jealous boyfriend. This was gonna drive him up the wall. "Please tell me you signed up for football practice, too," Pete asked.

Clark shook his head. Even if he'd gone home last night and asked about the permission slip... his dad would've just said no again.

...and now Clark knew why. He was dangerous. He shouldn't play.

"Oh man," Pete groaned. "You are so dead. Whitney--"

"--I think Whitney has other things on his mind right now," said Clark. The Scarecrowing thing was just a rumor, anyway.

Pete frowned up at him, like he always did when Clark was being stubborn.

The bell rang.

They both froze.

They realized at about the same time that the hallway was completely empty.

Clark looked at Pete. Pete looked at Clark.

They both ran to class.

The rest of the day... was pretty much normal after that, at least as much as 'being normal' ever went for Clark.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	3. Meet the Family Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To help better explain the order of events that's been happening here: in this series, Lex gave Clark the truck the same day as the accident, _but the accident also occurred one day earlier than in canon_. (For example, Lana was still wearing her necklace in the graveyard when Clark came across her in the first fic in this series, because she hadn't run into Whitney at her house and given him the necklace yet. That happens later "this night" in this fic.) Think of it like the car accident happening the day before the first day of high school shown in the pilot (which is beginning at the start of this story). Other events progressively snowball from there.
> 
> The transcript from [1x01 Pilot](http://tvmegasite.net/prime/shows/smallville/transcripts/season1/1-1.shtml) was helpful in the writing of this chapter :)
> 
> \--Minors edits to some typos and things later on 7/31.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When the bell rang at the end of the day, Clark was out the door like a shot. He'd been able to grab Pete at lunch and explain the situation enough to get him to promise to say that he was staying over at Pete's if his folks asked, for whatever good it might do him. Pete wasn't real happy that Clark had had a fight with his folks and ended up running to _Luthor_ afterwards, but he couldn't exactly argue that an upset Clark showing up after sundown wouldn't have had his parents getting called at the farm and told where he was, and then they would've come over to get Clark and... _talk_. Pete knew his mom would've done just that -- it had happened before.

Telling Pete that the family argument had to do with his parents -- adoptive parents -- lying about his biological parents had pretty much ended the discussion immediately. Pete had even promised without prompting that he wouldn't tell Chloe or anybody else about it, knowing that Chloe would've dug into news like _that_ like salt in an open wound, well-meaning or not.

 _I just hope Pete can get to Chloe before she gets to my parents asking questions,_ Clark hoped. They hadn't seen her at lunch; she'd been busy with something. Pete had promised to get to her and make her understand that the staying-over-at-Lex's-place thing was supposed to be a secret from Clark's parents, too -- and at the right, best, most strategic moment, explain to her that she should direct all of her questions about any of it to Clark, **not** them, because _they_ didn't know about it -- _and Clark wanted to keep it that way_. Because they both knew that there was only so much question-holding off that Chloe was physically capable of. And reigning in Chloe like that was **hard**.

Pete was a good friend.

As Clark trotted down the front steps of the school and craned his head, looking around, he spotted Lex pretty quickly -- he was standing over by the edge of the school property, casually leaning up against the chainlink fence, sunglasses on.

Clark broke out into a grin and waved, making his way over. He watched Lex smile and remove his sunglasses in a way that made it look like he was waving back in return.

"Oh man," Clark said, hitching up his backpack on his shoulder and looking back and forth with an air of concern. "I know I was a little late getting out," because most of the student body usually vacated the premises in the first minute-twenty after the bell -- Chloe had enlisted him and Pete after school once to help count and time them to figure out that little factoid -- "but I didn't think half the school could mug you and carry off your car that easily!" he ended in mock horror.

The corner of Lex's mouth twitched up slightly. He dropped his chin as he slid his sunglasses into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and said, "Not quite. I parked around the corner to protect the innocent."

Clark nodded sagely as he relaxed at this news. "Good idea -- I hear drool is bad for the paint job on those poor, innocent sportscars," he deadpanned.

The corner of Lex's mouth twitched upwards again, and when Lex looked up at him, eyes alight with something deep, Clark felt like he'd won a prize, or passed a test or something.

...The 'won a prize' feeling was maybe because Clark realized that he _had_ gotten the social cues right -- this morning had been a little awkward at the drop-off, Lex had obviously picked up on it, and this afternoon could've gone pretty badly if Lex hadn't parked where he had, and timed it the way he did. Clark was really relieved that Lex must've thought about it, too. --And that Lex didn't seem to think badly about the practical need for doing so. If anything, it was almost like he _approved_. ...which was where the 'passed a test' feeling came in.

"Hey, Clark!" he heard behind him, and as Clark hadn't realized how widely he'd been grinning at Lex until he felt it falter and begin to slide off his face, as he turned to face--

"Hey, Pete," Clark said with as much enthusiasm as he could manage at the moment, already knowing how Pete would begin glowering when he looked past Clark and saw Lex, even before it happened. He mentally sighed and said, "Um, this is--"

" _Luthor_ ," Pete said, coming to a halt and crossing his arms, standing rigidly. He actually almost looked a little foreboding in the football gear, which made him look a lot larger than he actually was.

"Pete Ross, I take it?" Lex said somewhat neutrally, with a slight smile, as he slid his hands into his pockets.

Pete glared at Lex. "How does he know who I am?" Pete asked Clark with a frown.

"Uh, because I told him you're my best friend?" Clark murmured, feeling really embarassed about how Pete was acting.

"Why?"

"...Because he's nice and I guess I'm kind of friends with him, too?" Clark said with a slight wince at the stare he got from Pete.

"Riiight," said his best friend since kindergarten, eyeing Lex. "Guy doesn't even shake hands and..." Pete trailed off frowning.

Clark realized that Lex had glanced over at him for a moment, and that Pete had picked upon it, too.

"While I do have enough manners to understand that shaking hands is a normal, friendly response to an introduction," Lex began, kind of... maybe not _carefully_ , but gently? "It's my understanding that offering a handshake to you might be considered more of an..." He glanced at Clark again, "...insult, given the dealings that I've heard went on between my father and your uncles," Lex ended, diplomatically almost.

"Uh huh. Because you're all about being ...uninsulting," Pete said slowly, giving him an uncertain 'what the hell?' look. "And totally don't go around ripping on other people at all."

"Oh no," Lex agreed, easily enough. "I generally do not. --Not _accidentally_ ," Lex grinned, showing teeth and a bit of humor.

Pete frowned. Clark groaned a little.

Lex's grin melted back to a small smirk, and he seemed a little more normally-himself -- well, as much as Clark knew of him in a day -- and he asked, "Was there a reason you were looking for Clark?"

Pete blinked and glanced between them quickly a few times.

"Yeah," Pete said grudgingly. He told Clark, "I found Chloe, but didn't get a chance to talk with her."

Clark winced. So much for his good friend taking the heat for him ...for at least a little while.

"I'm sorry man," Pete said, and he did look apologetic. "I've got to get to the football try-outs, or I'm done before I started," he motioned towards the fields with his helmet. "I finally found her in the newspaper office on the first floor. She'll be in there for awhile, and I told her so she knows you're coming, but you'll want to catch her, like, soon."

"Uh, thanks," Clark told him, with a small sigh.

"Yeah, sure," said Pete. He started to turn to go, but paused, glancing between them uncertainly. "--Did Clark really stay over at your place last night?" Pete blurted out quickly, and kind of accusingly, at Lex.

"Pete!" Clark yelped. "Geez," he winced, as Lex blinked at them and didn't say a word, just stood there sort of neutrally, like he was waiting...

Then Clark realized what Lex was waiting _for_.

"--I already talked to him. About stuff." Clark winced harder when Pete shot him a look.

"Hopefully more than you discussed with me," Lex said somewhat quietly under his breath, stepping forward -- so quietly that Clark wasn't sure whether he and Pete were supposed to have heard it. Lex gestured widely and forwards with both his hands, like he was herding them back towards the entrace of the school, sort-of, and said at a louder, more normal speaking level, "We can talk and walk at the same time, yes?"

Pete frowned a little, but let Lex sort-of shoo him along in front of him walking mostly next to Clark, with Lex taking up the rear.

"Yes, he stayed over at my place last night," Lex stated pretty abruptly as they went.

"Why?"

"Clark didn't discuss this with you?" Lex said, glancing between them.

"No, I mean why did you let him stay over?" Pete frowned over his shoulder at him, almost glaring.

"He came over, and I had plenty of rooms; why wouldn't I?" Lex said without batting an eyelash.

"Uh, I don't think anybody's had time to really, uh, gossip about the whole bridge thing yet," Clark put out there as they got close to the high school doors.

"Bridge thing?" Pete echoed, then shook his head. "Man, never mind, I'll let Chloe get that one out of you," he said, and Clark stifled a wince. "Forget that. --What was this thing about you almost exploding your house?" he asked Lex, curiosity overriding suspicion for a second there.

"I lit a wood fire in a fireplace that had a gas fixture in... it... --is it _really_ that bad?" Lex asked Clark, after noticing the look of horror that passed across Pete's face. He got the impression that Lex must have thought he was overreacting last night.

"Yes," Clark said.

"Oh," said Lex.

"Ho-ly _shit_ ," said Pete, staring at Lex like he was out of his mind. "You really almost blew up your own house," he repeated numbly, before wanting to know: "--Are you _**crazy?!**_ "

"Told you," sighed Clark, feeling a little embarassed for Lex.

"Mm," said Lex, eyeing Pete. "And I suppose the two of you were born knowing this," he added under his breath.

"Oh, what, like you've never lived someplace with a fireplace before!" Pete scoffed as they came to a halt just inside the entrance.

"Actually, no," Lex said. "I haven't."

Pete stared at him. "What? --No way. You're telling me _you_ can't afford a _fireplace?_ "

Clark winced again at Pete's behavior, but Lex didn't seem offended, he just casually explained. "I have one now," he started by pointing out. "But I grew up in my family's Penthouse suite in Metropolis. We had central heating. No fireplace was necessary. ...Actually, most Metropolis living arrangements don't have fireplaces, simply because a fireplace requires a shaft for proper ventilation, and having protruding chimneys from every roof for every apartment in a high rise complex would be largely unmanageable in the city proper." He paused. "My college quarters were well-managed, of course, but I found myself in a similar living arrangement at Princeton."

Pete rolled his eyes, and was about to say something else dumb and wince-worthy, Clark just knew it--

\--except he didn't. Instead, his eyes tracked to the left, then went wide, and he shoved through the second set of double doors and out into the front hallway past them.

"...Pete?" Clark asked, following him in, then he, too, came to a halt. " _Oh, geez,_ " he said breathlessly.

The football trophy case was **wrecked** , glass strewn across the floor--

"I take it that it was not like this when either of you walked by earlier," Lex said, following them in. He picked his way across the floor carefully as he surveyed the damage with narrowed gaze, and hooded eyes, and gears grinding through thought at high-speed behind them. --Because apparently there was _focus_? And then there was _**FOCUS**_. Like he was actually putting extra effort into it and missing _absolutely nothing._ \--Seriously, holy crap. _And I thought Lex had had it turned up to eleven last night..._ Apparently that didn't hold a candle to him when he was _really_ paying attention. ...Or a torch. Heh.

\--Not that Clark was exactly a slouch in the perception department, either, but nobody else was in the hallway with them, and it didn't look or sound like anybody was in a nearby classroom -- no doors slowly closing, no hurried footfalls. Whoever did this wasn't running away from the scene of the crime -- they were long gone, by at least a couple minutes worth of time. Some kind of smash-and-grab, which was _weird_ because the trophies kind of looked...

"Does your school have surveillance footage?" Lex asked, and both Clark and Pete had to turn and stare. "This does seem to be something of relative importance to the school. Shouldn't it have some sort of security system...?" he asked, as he flicked his fingers towards what little of the plastic-glass barrier remained in the alcove.

Clark exchanged glances with Pete. "It's a high school," Pete said slowly, like Lex was dumb.

"It's a _public_ high school," Clark rushed to explain. "Putting up cameras would get folks angry about their kids being spied on, and, uh, it would just be asking for trouble..." Clark trailed off, wincing.

"What Clark _means_ to say is that the jocks and popular kids and everybody would see it as a challenge," Pete said, rolling his eyes. "Like, who wants to do the most stupid and outrageous thing on camera by the trophy case? And still get away with it because they stole the tapes?"

"And, like, trying to alarm the glass or something instead?" Clark said, uncertainly. "They wouldn't be able to, uh, ...justify the expense?" he said, trying to think in adult PTA-talk.

"Or people would break it as a joke, too," Pete added.

Lex seemed to consider this, then nodded once, contemplatively.

Clark let out a soft sigh.

"...at least until the jocks killed them for sullying hallowed ground, the freaking Crow Shrine itself," Pete continued. "Man, whoever did this is freaking stupid. They're so gonna get caught, and when they do they're gonna get fucked up by Whit and _everybody_ ," he said. "Hell, the whole town, even. People are gonna get in line." He grimaced and looked down, kicking at a shard lightly. "Shit, this sucks. I've gotta go to the tryouts right now. I'm gonna have to be the one to tell 'em." He said it like it was a death sentence.

"I don't think they're gonna shoot the messenger, Pete," Clark tried to reassure him. "They'll be too freaked out about hearing the case got broken into and getting over here to really think much about who's telling them. Plus, they'll probably stop practice for it, which means they can't say you were late or anything."

"I guess," Pete said with a frown.

"...This isn't a job for the janitorial staff?" Lex asked them. "Or the school administrators?"

Clark half-shrugged as Pete backed up and skirted the mess. "No. It's all football team trophys and stuff. The jocks'll know best what was in here and be able to say what's missing," he said, eyeing the contents, because **he** sure couldn't. Then he realised something. "Actually, I should probably tell Chloe about this," he said, in realization.

"Well, _duh_ ," Pete said.

Clark shook his head. "No -- I mean, she could take pictures and stuff of what it looks like. That way there's a record, and we could straight-up compare what's in the case against older yearbook pictures, or something."

Pete perked up. "Hey, you could use that as an excuse to get Chloe off your back for a bit!" he told Clark with a hopeful smile. "Give her something to work on besides you."

Clark winced. " _Thanks,_ " he said sarcastically, but gave him a helpless 'thank you' smile that he actually meant -- because it really _was_ a good idea.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go inform the bulky masses," Pete told them. "You two better get the hell out of dodge if you don't wanna get grilled, or worse," he shot over his shoulder as he turned and jogged off down the hallway towards the exit closest to the fields -- it making more sense to be seen exiting the building right before talking about the damage to the team's football shrine inside it.

And then there were two.

Clark turned to Lex with an apologetic smile. "Not exactly the kind of excitement you were expecting out of my high school, huh?"

"It is impressive in its failures at security measures," Lex deadpanned, giving him a sidelong look with a gleam in his eye.

Clark blushed and knew, just _knew_ , he had a silly smile going, he could _feel_ the darn thing.

He was having trouble stopping, though.

He and Lex carefully maneuvered themselves around the scattered remnants of the trophy case barrier and started down the main hallway, Clark slightly in the lead because he knew where the school newspaper rooms were...

...he was pretty sure.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Clark, might I ask...?" At the confused nod, Lex continued. "Why are we going to see your Miss Sullivan -- besides the little matter with the trophy case, I mean?" He couldn't help but frown a little. "Last night you seemed rather... _vocal_ about being rather disinclined to have her prying into your secrets." _And, presumably, your family affairs. And I would like to know what I am getting into._ A high-school-aged reporter was, after all, still a reporter...

Clark sighed and grimaced a little. "Two words: _damage control_ ," he was informed with no small dread.

Lex was silent for a moment's pause, but he could think of no more delicate way to put this. "How did Chloe find out about your--?"

"--not my parents," Clark said quietly, looking away as his mood took a turn for the worse, though happily not quite as bad as the previous night. "It was..." Clark winced and bit his lip, looking down at the floor as they walked.

After a good few yards of silence, Lex stifled his impatience with a remembrance of how bad fourteen could feel, especially with parental strife thrown in the mix. Instead, he queried, as mildly as he was able, "Clark?"

" _\--It was us_ ," Clark blurted out finally, and that had Lex blinking for a moment or two.

"...'Us'?" he repeated, unsure of what Clark meant. _If I take that at face value... but no, Clark doesn't think like that._ He'd be safer asking, rather than letting his worst-case scenarios get the better of him, racing on ahead of himself. "Could you be a little more specific?" he tried, not bothering to hide his confusion.

"I-- it--" Clark winced again -- no, cringed -- and he started turning _very_ red.

Then Clark stopped walking for a moment.

Lex stopped a step too late, had to turn back to face him, starting to feel worried.

"I don't think everybody knows about the bridge yet," Clark began. "Chloe didn't, and if people were talking about it, she would know, so..." He shook his head back and forth. "--Not important. People don't know. So they don't understand about the truck. So apparently..." He cringed again. "If my friends told me that people were thinking that it was true that my-- my parents _sold_ me to you as an-- an-- _'underaged rentboy'_ becuse of the truck and that I stayed the night at your place, or, or a s-s-se-- _slave_ or something--" Clark clamped down on what he was about to say next, shaking as he stood there with his hands hanging at his sides, staring at the floor at his feet.

Then he closed his eyes and his fists slowly clenched. "I... I don't even want to _think_ what they're actually saying around town, the worst of it -- because Chloe tells it like it is, but if even _she_ sort of hesitated to tell me..."

_Oh._

Lex stood there, watching Clark, and tried to formulate a proper response. However, nothing really immediately sprung to mind, and because he was having difficulty doing so, he took a moment ...or twelve. --Not that the extra time helped. Unfortunately, the best he could come up with was...

"I'm sorry that I've caused the town to..." -- _no, that's a very bad way to put it, I never wanted this_ \-- "that association with me has called your virtue into question," he said slowly, kicking himself all the while. _I should have seen this coming,_ he told himself. _When my new cook was looking at him like that..._ He mentally shook himself. _Damnit, it better not have been my house staff spreading this-- this-- **filth!**_

But what was even more inexcusable was that Lex hadn't realized that this outcome might have occurred, and planned for this eventuality -- or found a way to forestall it, rather.

But what was done was done, and a good kid was about to be tarred with the brush of having associated with the Luthor family, wholly undeserving of it.

So Lex stood there and braced himself, ready to face the music. Getting branded as a deviant and a pedophile by the town was bad enough, but losing Clark as a friend--ly face in town was going to _hurt_.

Clark's head slowly came up. He stared at Lex for a moment, face unreadable.

And then he let out a stuttering laugh.

_...What?_

Clark clapped a hand over his mouth, but he had a very different sort of blush going on right now.

"I, uh, sorry -- sorry. I just-- It was funny how you-- I mean, it's not funny at _all_ , really, but-- I mean-- I just--" Clark had a smile, and it was slowly growing wider, as though he couldn't help it, couldn't keep it down.

Lex slowly began to frown. He didn't understand Clark's reaction at all.

And then a weird thought occurred.

_Did he just lie to me, about--?_

Clark let out another stuttering laugh, bent over slightly, with his arm wrapped around his waist, a hand on his knee, eyebrows twitching.

"S-sorry," he gasped out again, trying to hold in more laughter. He slowly seemed to regain his equilibrium, straightening up again.

It was about that point that Lex realized that Clark's high, light pink blush was one more of _sympathetic embarassment_ then malicious mirth.

"I just-- You sounded like one-- one of those... those guys from one of Lana's Regency romances, there," Clark explained, as he wiped at the corner of one of his eyes. "Like, like the next thing you were gonna say would be something like..." Clark's brow furrowed momentarily, but his lips turned upward slightly. "That you were gonna beg forgiveness, totally undeserving of it, all dramatic about it, then eschew all contact with me for my own good standing in polite society, and go on a long journey across the sea searching for penance or something, never to be seen again."

Lex stood there, stunned.

Because if that whole... _scene_... was something Clark had imagined right up on the spot, well...

Lex took a moment to think of what that would look like if he did that. ...Yes, he could understand the laughter.

 _...Well, I had thought to ask for forgiveness and avoid further contact with him, assuming further contact would make things worse..._ That had been dead-on.

Lex, however, kept his damn fool mouth shut. Because Clark seemed to think the whole idea of not associating with him anymore was ludicrous, and Lex was not a stupid man.

There was one point about the whole thing that Lex didn't quite understand, though.

"...Uh, okay, maybe more of a Victorian romance than a Regency one," Clark said, apparently catching on to his noncomprehension. "Um. ...Bodice ripper? Harlequin reprint? ...Pulp romance?" Then he gave Lex a look. "You totally have no idea what I'm talking about?"

"I may consider myself fairly well read, Clark, but I'm not quite _that_ well-read, apparently," Lex ventured.

Clark stared at him in something approaching the _why-are-you-so-bald?_ way.

Then he said, in mild horror, "You haven't read _Pride and Prejudice_?!?"

Lex frowned. "No, I've read that." Then he paused. _Oh. Jane Austen. Regency romance. A romantic novel written in the English Regency period._ Then he felt a little foolish at not having known something that was aparently as basic to normal small-town life as fireplace protocol.

"Yeah," said Clark, not picking up on his self-flagellation. "Jane Austen, Georgette Heyer. They're big Regency writers." _Oh, perhaps not from the time period, but the setting in the books?_

Clark smiled and looked up at the ceiling, remembering. "There's Charlotte Bronte, too, and Kathleen Woodiwess," Clark blushed heavily -- _a more racy author?_ \-- "and Janet Dailey and Julie Garwood -- her stuff is funny -- and Lana really likes Jude Deveraux, she's read almost every one of her novels," he explained, glancing back to Lex, and Lex thought _ah, Lana is a person Clark knows, not an author of a romance novel line_ , and it was telling that Clark was reading the same books as a girl he knew.

"But I like Jayne Ann Krentz better," Clark ended on, and Lex realized that Clark wasn't actually embarassed that he had apparently been reading a great number of what Lex assumed might commonly be thought of as 'girl' books.

"Why do you like Miss Krentz's books better?" Lex asked, legitimately curious.

And that was apparently all the prompting Clark needed to launch into a description of a book that sounded like a cross between science fiction and a study in social relationship development ...or a _romance_. Right.

Lex slid his hands into his pockets and began walking down the hallway with Clark again, as Clark strode forward animatedly as he explained the plot of one of Krentz's books to him for his benefit.

When they reached the end of the explanation, but not their destination, having turned several corners but not having quite arrived as of yet, Clark paused, frowning slightly, and turned to Lex.

"Did you just distract me?" he asked.

"I may have let you distract yourself," was all Lex would admit to, "though I believe you may have needed it."

"Yeah," Clark sighed, scuffing his shoe against the floor in a short flat kick forward as he walked.

Then Clark burst out angrily with, "I can't believe Pete thought I was gay!"

_Abrupt changes in topic, thy name is not only Lex Luthor._

"And, I mean, I know people talk about prejudice and stuff sometimes, but I never thought he'd--" Clark snapped his jaw shut, and now Lex had a better handle on where the anger was coming from. And the topic change that really wasn't.

"He didn't seem that bad just now," Lex said thoughtfully.

"No, it was before, when--" Clark paused, then turned to look at Lex. "Oh. No, that-- Pete's always been pretty vocal about not liking your family, 'cause of the stuff with his uncles. I was kind of expecting him not to like you until he got to know you." He frowned. "Though maybe not _that_ much."

Lex raised his eyebrows slightly. "I'm used to that, Clark." _And much worse, besides._ That had been downright _friendly_ , almost, before even considering the surrounding circumstances of his family and the major social problems he'd just created for Pete's friend that morning. "I was more referring to the response to the idea of someone being 'gay'."

"Well, I still don't know why he'd be so upset!" Clark said, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "It's not like I'd be in competition for the girls anymore if I was!" He stopped. "Except maybe he really did think I was bi instead," Clark revised with a frown, "except I'm _not_ ," then glanced over at Lex. "--Not that there's anything wrong with that!" he said hurriedly, as if to make sure that Lex did not think that he, himself, was prejudiced in such a way.

He got an embarassed blush about it, too. Clark had so very many shades of them. Lex had never realized that there were different kinds of blushes, before. And he was so _earnest_ about it all.

Lex covered his eyes, but he let his smile peek through. 

He heard a relieved sigh from Clark.

Lex had to stifle a grin.

"Wait, are you bi?" he was asked.

Lex lowered his hand but kept his smile.

Clark frowned slightly in confusion. "Wait, is that a yes, or a no?"

"Does it matter?"

Clark's brows drew up, then down again. "...I don't know?"

Lex grinned. "Good answer."

Clark blushed again.

Then he came to a halt in the middle of the hallway again as something occurred to him.

Lex stopped and waited patiently, and then his patience was rewarded when Clark said, "Oh, geez, I wonder if Chloe's bi!"

All right. That one demanded an explanation.

Lex got it, too, in a slightly more coherent form than the earlier plot description, and with a hell of a lot more starry-eyed hero worship to boot.

"...Are all Metropolis girls like that?" Clark asked him at the end of his tale.

"If they are, then I'd like to meet some more of them," Lex told him truthfully.

"Chloe is awesome," Clark said -- no, _agreed_ , like it was a simple, undeniable fact.

Lex gave him a covert sidelong look, because perhaps Clark was chasing the wrong girl. This Lana girl seemed content to read romances, but this Chloe girl apparently wrote out and lived her own. _...Should I say something?_

Then they finally came to a halt in front of a closed door.

"I think this is it," said Clark.

Lex gave the door a long look. "Did we pass by here before?"

Clark blushed again. "...Maybe?"

Lex gave him an amused look.

"Well, we got here eventually?" Clark offered.

Lex tilted his head in acquiesence. "Not like I had anything better to do this afternoon," he said, perfectly honest. Besides, Lex was finding that walking quiet school hallways was almost zen, after a fashion.

Clark... seemed almost embarassed -- _rueful?_ \-- at Lex's pronouncement, or the ease at which he made it.

Then he took a few steps back from the doorway, to the opposite side of the hall.

Lex followed.

"Okay, look," Clark said under his breath. "We need a game plan before going in, and... you should know some stuff."

Lex nodded slightly in agreement.

"I told Pete that I found out that my adoptive parents lied about my biological ones," Clark told him, eyes downcast.

Lex kept up his understanding, listening expression, but underneath it he was raging, and worried in the extreme. It was bad enough that Clark's parents had lied to him, but with adoption thrown in the mix... suddenly, the situation took on a whole new dimension of difficulty.

 _Small wonder Clark didn't feel comfortable staying at home,_ Lex realized. _Bad enough to deal with the uncertainty of being adopted, and whether or not your parents truly care about **you** , but to find out that they've lied to you about something so fundamental?_ Clark's whole world must have suffered a major upset. --And what if they had lied about other things? What else might they have been lying about?

...And then he remembered that Clark had said just that the night previous, when he'd been begging Lex to teach him how to lie.

"What I told Pete was true, but..." Clark got a sick look, then seemed to shove the feeling down and away, which had the skin on the back of Lex's neck rising in goosebumps.

He watched Clark calm, then shake his head. "I can't... talk about it. That's the thing I need to learn to lie about -- what I know now that I didn't before." He looked lex in the eye. "I need to be able to tell people that I don't know, never have, and have them still believe me."

Lex swallowed lightly. "All right," he said. "But I think that that may be a little difficult, given that I doubt your parents will want you around me, especially after this rumor's finished making its rounds around the town."

But Clark just looked a little relieved, a little amused, a little tired, and shook his head again. "It's fine," he told Lex. "People are just looking for an explanation. If I hadn't spent the night over at your place, they'd probably be saying I stole it, or something else just as... messed up." He shrugged. "Once word gets around about the bridge, nobody's gonna believe the rentboy thing."

"Clark, in my experience, people tend to rather believe the most fantastic explanation they can think of, not the more mundane reality." A multitude of gossip rags 'reporting' on him could certainly attest to that fact.

"No, but, see, they will!" Clark told him with a smile that turned sheepish. "I, uh... well. You know how Pete knew about the fireplace?"

"Yes?"

"I... may have accidentally shouted that in the middle of the hallway this morning when the rentboy thing came up, and my friends wanted to know why I was over there. So it'll probably be all over town before dinner. --Um, sorry if you didn't want people to know," he added belatedly.

Lex sighed, because _What's done is done._ "You think that will help somehow?" he asked skeptically.

Clark nodded. "First there was the bridge-thing," he said. "And then there was the fireplace-thing. They sort of go together, and it's kind of crazy, you know?" Clark said.

 _...Put that way, yes, it does sound a little more fantastic than buying a rentboy for the night._ "Especially since you were there to save me both times."

"Er, well," Clark rubbed the back of his neck, embarassed again. "I wouldn't put it _that_ way..."

"I would," Lex smirked.

Clrk grinned and blushed harder.

"Anyway," Clark said, growing more serious, "it's not really a bad thing. You didn't _actually_ blow up your house, and everybody's done something stupid with a fire before, in a fireplace, or a grill or something. Or they've been there when a friend or a family member did it. It's sort of like... a conversation starter?"

Lex looked at him askance. "Hi, I'm Lex Luthor, I just moved into that nice mansion up the street, and I almost blew myself up because nobody taught me not to light a wood fire in a gas fireplace?"

But, god help him, Clark was smiling and nodding at him in an encouraging way. "Right! Everybody'll be all like, 'oh, you silly Metropolis person! Not knowing about fireplaces, or horseback riding, or corn, or...' well, you know," Clark said, dropping the affected chiding-amused condescending tone. "Chloe gets that a lot. People show her how to do stuff and are nice to her about it, not snobby."

"...If you say so, Clark." _I'll believe that when I see it._

_...Though at least I know about the horseback riding, and a little about farms._

"...But I did actually go over the bridge," Lex said quietly.

Clark looked startled. "But you're okay, right?" he said, looking over him with concern.

"I'm fine," Lex said, blinking. He blinked again when Clark visibly relaxed at hearing this.

"Okay, well, good."

Lex felt a small unaffected smile on his lips, and he hadn't even thought about putting it there.

"But, yeah, once people know about the bridge-thing, the truck will make sense, and..." Clark frowned slightly, then brightened considerably. "You said I was... invited, right? That the truck was kind of an invite to come over whenever?"

"Yes."

"So... you sort of expected me to come over?"

Lex nodded slowly. _I wonder what he's..._

"So, we let people think I knew that from the beginning, that that's why I came over in the first place," Clark paused, thinking hard. "It's like... the bridge-thing, then the truck, then I came over to...see stuff around the mansion and saw you with the fire, and then the rest of it," Clark said with something sounding like relief. "And it was really late, and I ended up staying over. We just don't say why."

Lex stared at Clark.

"...Clark?"

"Yeah?" siad Clark, looking at him with nervous anticipation, like he was expecting Lex to evaluate his story and let him know what he thought of it.

 _Well, technically, I am doing that,_ Lex thought, as he licked his lips carefully and said, "I thought you said you didn't know how to lie."

Clark blinked at him.

His brow furrowed.

He said, "But it's not a lie."

 _Oh boy._ "Clark, that's a lie of omission." _...And what does it say about his parents -- adoptive parents -- that he doesn't know that?_ ...And hell, if the confused look on his face was any indication, Clark didn't seem to be getting it. "You're leaving out vital information that'll lead a listener to being misinformed."

Clark frowned. "No, I'm not," he said. "Everything in that is true, and it covers everything. Nobody's gonna care why I went over, just that I was there and what happened after, just like nobody's gonna care about what happens later when my parents find out." He got a slightly sick look. "Yeah, I'll get in trouble for not having actually called home to ask for permission to stay the night, especially when they would've said no, but that stuff happens to people all the time. That's just a sort of shrug-at-the-end thing if you hear about it."

"And no-one will care about the... current family strife?"

Clark grimaced. "Only the nastier rumor-mongers. But that's personal stuff. Most people don't care unless it's a huge deal. Chloe will want to know 'cause we're friends, that's all."

_But if that's the case, then why are you so adamant about learning to lie so no-one will find out about it?_

...or was he treating the fight with his parents and the lie itself as two separate things?

"Anyway, the thing about me being a rentboy is dumb," Clark told him. "I mean, I haven't even ever had a girlfriend before," he acknowledged with something like shame. "And it's not like my parents would actually _sell me_ to--"

And then Clark did something odd.

He twitched and cut himself off.

And then he paled and looked at the floor.

And then he forced a laugh.

" _Really_ stupid," he said, with a grin that wasn't anything of the kind, eyes downcast. "If they were gonna do that, they would've done it a long time ago."

Lex took in a slow breath. He let it out.

He remembered how he had hit Clark with his car, on the bridge.

He thought, _Yes, I suppose that would be true... assuming that they knew that you were capable of surviving something like that in the first place._

Because he _very much_ remembered Clark's response after.

Most people, on being accused of having been hit by a car, going over a rail, would have said, "Huh?" or "What?" or expressed some sort of confusion. That was the normal response one would give, if they really had dived in after Lex of their own accord.

Clark's first reaction had been, _If you'd hit me, I'd be dead._ A denial.

\--A shocky denial, given how breathlessly he'd said it, and the way he'd turned and looked back at the ramp shortly thereafter, and the water.

Lex had felt a primal, baseless, instinctual need to comfort him in that moment, for some reason. Perhaps this was why.

Somehow, he'd picked up on something being fundamentally wrong with what had happened, with Clark's reaction, with all of it.

His savior, in need of saving.

_Either his adoptive parents already knew, or they didn't. But they must have known **something** was different about him, something to do with his biological parents. --And Clark must've asked._

_And after what happened, they couldn't lie anymore...?_

_Shit,_ he realized. _This... is likely partially my fault. ...And Clark came running to me?_

_Well, no. Actually, he was expecting a big, lonely mansion. I just happened to be there, crazy enough to have believed myself sane still, to have almost told him what I'd thought-- what I **knew** I'd seen happen at the bridge shortly after his having brought me back to life._

He sure wasn't going to forget the emotions that he'd seen flash across Clark's face in those few moments before hit car had hit. Not anytime soon.

_I felt regret, mortification, panic, shame for taking him with me, sorrow, anger at myself and at an absent God for letting it happen that way..._

And what had Clark felt?

But Lex didn't want to think about that, so he shook his head to clear it. _Thank god for Chloe Sullivan, and warnings about her pushiness thereof,_ because clearly accusations and questions would have been the wrong way to go. _And I don't begrudge Clark his worry. If I was seemingly invulnerable, I'd worry about being sold to somebody for god-knows-what, too._ ...Lionel probably would, almost certainly -- in a heartbeat. ...That is, if he couldn't think of a good use for Lex himself.

 _I'd better make sure my dad never finds out about Clark,_ he told himself, not that it was the first time he'd thought it after the bridge.

"...Lex?"

 _Don't pry,_ he reminded himself, remembering the conversation from last night. _Don't scare him off._

Because if he ran right now... where would he run to?

...Where else did he have to run to?

"I'm fairly sure that slavery is out of vogue this season," Lex gently joked, trying to lighten the mood. "And, well, even if it was, I could outbid the rest and set you free again. No worries."

The slight look of shock that passed across Clark's face said it all.

"And I'm happy to stick to your story, Clark, lies of omission or otherwise," Lex added. "Though I do wonder why your parents haven't shown up raging yet, if it's really all over town."

Clark got a look of desperate hope that was almost painful to watch. "We're pretty self-sufficient at the farm. Mom and dad don't go into town much. They actually might not have heard."

Lex wondered if Clark really wouldn't be better served by having Lex insist that they both go talk to his parents, before the shit really hit the fan and they found out from someone else.

 _Unfortunately, my 'being a grown-up adult' skills are rusty from disuse... and I say that as if I've ever developed them in the first place, heh,_ Lex thought dismally.

"Somehow I don't think Chloe can hear us from the hallway, Clark," Lex reminded him.

"Yeah," Clark sighed. "Guess I should get this over with."

He took a deep breath, crossed the hallway, steeled himself, and opened the door.

"Clark!" he heard from within.

"Uh, hey Chloe," Clark said, entering, and as Lex followed, he couldn't help but notice the slump of Clark's shoulders. _Hm. You know, I think he was half-hoping that she wouldn't be in here..._

~*~*~*~*~*~


	4. Passing the Torch, Or Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To help better explain the order of events that's been happening here: in this series, Lex gave Clark the truck the same day as the accident, _but the accident also occurred one day earlier than in canon_. Think of it like the car accident happening the day before the first day of high school shown in the pilot (which is the beginning at the start of this story). Other events progressively snowball from there ...which is why we're hitting some events "now" rather than "tomorrow".
> 
> Transcripts from [1x01 Pilot](http://tvmegasite.net/prime/shows/smallville/transcripts/season1/1-1.shtml) and [1x07 Craving](http://tvmegasite.net/prime/shows/smallville/transcripts/season1/1-7.shtml) were helpful in the writing of this chapter :)

~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, I hear tell that you were looking for me--" Chloe straightened and shot to her feet. "Mr. Luthor!" she said, wide-eyed. _Why is he here?!_

Chloe stared at him. Lex Luthor. In the flesh.

...He was shorter than she'd expected.

"Ah. Chloe, is it? Call me Lex," she was told.

"...Mr. Luthor?"

Clark glanced over his shoulder and smiled sheepishly. "You shouldn't do that," he told her conspiratorilly. "He'll make you get a weird look."

"Too late," said Lex Luthor, almost... jovially? What the--? "Hello, _Miss Sullivan_."

_Oh my god._ It was like being treated seriously like an adult? But also strict parent-teacher mode.

Chloe had to fight a shudder, while Clark grinned up a storm. "Told you!"

Chloe shot him a look.

Right. Two could play at this game. "So... _Lex_. And _Clark_. Who slept over at Lex's big ol' mansion last night," she said, slapping him in the shoulder. "What can I do you for?" _...Oh, shit._ "I mean, **do for you**." _For you, for you, god -- shut up you stupid Clark crush, shut up! Shake it off, Sullivan!_ "Don't suppose you're gonna give me the big behind-the-scenes scoop?" she asked, focused on the big prize.

Clark looked pained, and he groaned the same way. "Chloe... --I told you this morning!"

"Hum. Got your stories straight already, do you?"

Clark rolled his eyes, but Luthor was one smooth customer.

"C'mon, Clark, give me something to work with here!" she pressed. "Pete said you'd tell-all this afternoon," _which means I'll have to pry every last piece of of you bit by bloody bit, like always,_ "and you never explained this mysterious 'bridge-thing', either."

"It's not mysterious!" Clark protested, as Lex wandered his way around the periphery of the room, absently sliding his fingers over level surfaces, or giving a light poke of mild disinterest to a knick-knack or two standing out from the general clutter. "There was a police report and everything."

Chloe's eyebrows went up. "Oh?"

Clark sighed again. "It's not like that, really."

Chloe was about two seconds from turning full reporter-mode on him, when Lex made it to the opposite side of the room and tugged the sheet over the wall slightly aside, then frowned and pulled it down completely, flicking the fabric cover away.

_Shit._

"What is this?" Lex asked, frowning slightly as he moved forward to peruse the articles that were up.

Chloe sighed. She could tell from his tone, there was no way Luthor was going to believe her. _Well, can't blame a girl for trying._ She decided to tell him -- and Clark -- anyway, but her excitement was more than dampened by Lex's skepticism, and the fact that she hadn't exactly gotten to choose her timing with Clark. She'd meant for Pete to be with her to back her up. "It's something I had at home and, well, I've got the space for it here. I haven't gotten them all pinned back up yet, but... well, it started out as a scrapbook and just kind of... mutated. I call it 'The Wall of Weird.'"

She waited a beat, but neither of them tried to stop her there, so she just took a breath and bulldozed on ahead. "It's every strange, bizarre, and unexplained event that's happened in Smallville since the meteor shower. That's when it all began -- when the town went schizo." She hesitated, then turned back to Clark, not really wanting to pose the question to Lex. "So, what do you think?"

But Clark stood still, right where he was, poleaxed. He hadn't even tried to approach, the way Luthor had. But his eyes were wide, jumping from picture to picture, his tone horrified, as he said, "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

And at that, Chloe got a little irritated. If anybody would believe her, she'd hoped it would be him. Even _Pete_ hadn't been this bad, and...

"Do you tell me everything that happens in your life?" she needled him, because, duh, no he didn't. Case-in-point was yesterday _and_ this morning. She'd have thought that saving the life of the town-billionaire would've at least rated her a call to tell her the freaking news. And getting a truck from him? Staying over at his mansion? _He was her friend._ If _anyone_ deserved the exclusive on his life-saving bent and the aftermath of doing the dripping deed, it was _her_. "We all keep secrets, Clark." _Even if you don't really have any. ...okay, except for maybe yesterday -- which is already out of the bag, you jerk!_

"There's no need to be rude, Chloe," she was scolded, by Lex-freaking-Luthor himself. "It is a rather fantastic thing to believe. Though it is an interesting theory," Lex said quite mildly, and that had Chloe turning back to him. He was fully absorbed by the Wall, carefully pulling down an article -- holding the paper gently before removing the pushpin from it -- and _actually reading it_.

"You... don't think it's crazy?" Chloe said, sitting down on the edge of her computer desk, stunned. "But... Hamilton's the only other person in town who agrees with me," she admitted, the wind dropping right out of her sails. She'd been lining up defensive arguments, not expecting...

"Maybe," Lex said, lifting his head, and beginning to turn towards her. "Do you remember where you were when it fell?" Then he paused. "Ah. Never mind," he said absently, drawn back to the article he was holding. "I'd forgotten, Clark said you'd only been living in town for a year."

"Yeah, but..." Then she jumped back up as she remembered. "--You were in Smallville that day! That was when you lost your hair and your asthma!"

Lex blinked, then turned towards her. "How did you know about that?" He frowned slightly. "Not many people do," he said, somewhere between a warning and a threat.

"It's all there, inbetween the lines," Chloe said, giving him a grin. She strode over to her file cabinet on Wall-of-Weird humans, opened the third drawer, and pulled out the second-earliest file she had in her chronology on him. "Your father was in town the day of the meteor shower," Chloe pointed out, as she handed him the file and tapped her finger against a copy of a property sale deed. "And he finalized the deal to buy the factory from the Rosses a little after that. Some people remember seeing you come into town with him." She smiled, a little excted. "There wasn't enough time for you to have left between when people lastsaw you and when the meteors first hit. So, you were here," she ended.

"That's... true," Lex told her, taking the file from her and paging through it slowly, glancing through several of her much-after-the-fact interviews. "I was out in a cornfield when the first meteor hit," he offered. "Next thing I remember, I was waking up in Metropolis General completely bald."

_I knew it!_ Chloe thought excitedly. Now she wanted to see his medical records even more!

She was about to ask him about his white blood cell count, when Clark made a slightly choked sound, and Lex glanced up, then turned to face him. So did Chloe.

"I... I didn't know," Clark said, staring at Lex. He was pale. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Lex said, sounding almost amused, tilting his head at him. "It's not your fault."

But for whatever reason, that hit Clark hard. He went even more pale, and looked downright ill.

"...Clark?" Lex said, straightening and looking... concerned. _What the hell?_

"Clark..." Lex began, concern shifting to outright worry, and he closed the file and took a step towards him.

Clark wasn't responding. He looked like he was in shock.

Or expecting a hit.

"Clark, I'm fine, really," Lex began, "if I was given the choice to undo it... well, I wouldn't. I'd be happy to trade my hair for never getting sick a day of my life again, and..." then he trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words for a moment. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, and Chloe couldn't believe it -- the Metropolis playboy looked like he was about to say something encouraging, concillatory, _something_ to make Clark feel better... when Clark's gaze suddenly shifted away from him, and landed on something else instead.

Clark's eyes focused, he went dead-still, and then it was like all the blood drained from his face.

And then Clark turned and fled.

Lex and Chloe stared after him for a moment in shock, then--

"No--" Lex whispered, then called after him frantically, "-- _Clark, WAIT!!_ "

Luthor sprinted forward and out of the door after him.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Chloe's jaw dropped.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Oh, god.

The meteor shower. It had hurt people he knew. Cared about.

Put them in the hospital. Killed their parents. _Maimed them._

Lex. Lana.

...And god, Chloe. Why hadn't she told him before? The meteor shower had not just hurt people, killed people, but had _kept_ hurting them, long past that day. The meteor shower that had come down _with him_.

It was all his fault.

This wasn't something he could just close his eyes and ignore, either.

Except he wanted to, so he did. For at least a little while.

He turned and blindly stumbled out of the Torch, out into the hallway, choking down a scream.

He wanted to run, run away, far far away, all over again.

So he did.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lex Luthor trudged back into the newspaper office about a minute later, looking somewhat angry.

"You catch up with him?" Chloe asked.

" **No,** " Luthor said flatly, as he ran his left hand over his head. _A gesture of worry? Some sort of tell?_

"So, what was that?" Chloe asked him.

"You tell me," Luthor muttered, moving towards the Wall _with intent_. "What was he looking at before he ran?"

Chloe winced and pointed it out -- the fairy princess picture. "Lana. His big ol' crush since forever."

"Damnit," Lex said, running a hand across his face. He glared at the article for a moment, then turned to her. "Does he usually run?"

"What?"

"When Clark gets upset -- does he usually run away?"

Chloe was a little taken aback, but then she stopped to think. It was an intelligent question, and he'd spoken with some urgency. She wanted to know why.

"No, actually," she told him. "Clark's generally pretty down to earth. He usually digs in and deals with things as they come."

Lex cursed under his breath again and paced away across the room. It was a much larger reaction than she was expecting.

"...You're actually worried about him," Chloe said quietly, trying to wrap her brain around this, because... _why?_

"And you aren't?" Lex shot back, then paused and scrubbed his face with his palms. He took a couple slow, deep breaths.

"I apologize," he said more calmly, and with a lot more composure, when he looked up at her again. "That was rude of me. Of course you care."

"Okay, seriously -- what the hell is going on?" Chloe demanded. "I'm his friend, but _you?_ Why are _you_ worried about him?" _How do you even know him?_

"He saved my life yesterday. I'm not allowed to express an interest in his well-being in return?"

_...Gwah?_

"Woah, woah, back up," Chloe said, hands raised. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Lex stared at her, lips firmly shut.

"Okay, look," Chloe said, leveling with him. "Clark said there's a police report, so I _can_ find out. But I'd rather get it straight from the horse's mouth."

Luthor didn't look pleased, but he talked. "A bale of wire fell off of a shipping truck, I didn't see it, I hit it and went over the rail of Loeb Bridge and into the river. Clark pulled me out of my car and performed CPR. I'm fairly sure that I was clinically dead for awhile." He looked grim.

Chloe's jaw dropped.

"Shit," she cursed. "How is this not all over town?!"

Lex looked unamused. "I don't know, but I had the truck given to him as a thank you, because I thought it was the least I could do."

Chloe snorted. "Oh, that's so not gonna fly with Clark's dad," she told him.

"Yes," Lex said dryly. "Clark told me he's been informed that he has to give it back."

"Yeah, that sounds like the Kents," she said with an eyeroll. Well, that was one explanation down. "God, I _knew_ that rentboy thing was bullshit! --Hey, wait, is that why he's staying at your place? So he doesn't have to go home and give back the truck?" Chloe asked, though that didn't really seem to fit, but she had to start somewhere.

"No."

Chloe waited.

And waited.

"Okay... then why did he stay the night?"

Luthor remained silent.

"Oh, c'mon!"

"I'm not going to speak for Clark," Luthor told her.

"You kind of already are," she pointed out. Then she realized that maybe she'd jumped the gun. "Hold on, why did he come over in the first place? The truck's still over at the Kent farm."

Luthor stayed even more silent, if that was possible.

_Okay, there's something there,_ Chloe thought.

"You need to give me something," Chloe tried. "Or do you not know?"

"I know as much as Pete does," Lex told her.

"How do you know that?"

"I ran into him," Lex said.

"Okay, _that_ had to be special."

Lex got a wry smirk, then his smile evened out slightly. "And Clark told me such."

And it was about that point that Chloe realized that Luthor wasn't easy to read, but he _did_ have small reactions, and a very good poker face... when Clark wasn't in the room. Then the poker face seemed to fall apart. _Weird. But interesting._ She filed that nugget of information away for later mulling-over. Right now, she needed to _pay attention._

"Well, if you know as much as Pete does, then you know everything," she said with an intense stare. "Because Clark and Pete have been best friends since first grade. They talk about everything."

Non-reaction. A **lot** of non-reaction.

_That should have had a reaction. Some amount of surprise,_ because people didn't just become friends like that in less than a day.

_...Friends with a Luthor? God Clark, what the hell?_

And then it hit her. _...Pete doesn't know everything. And Luthor knows he doesn't know everything?_ Oh, this was not good. Since when did Clark have secrets?

...Since yesterday. Double-shit.

"Does this have something to do with the bridge?" Chloe asked, and something flickered in Lex's eyes. "...You don't know."

"No. I don't."

"Okay. Okay," said Chloe. She took a deep breath and thought, hard.

"...You came back here for a reason," she said finally. "What is it?"

"I think you might have information that I need."

"And you know things I want to know." Chloe nodded to herself, then looked up at him, eyes sharp. "Information trade?"

"For some things," Lex said. "And some of _that_ needs to remain off-the-record."

"Off-the-what-now?" Chloe said innocently.

That garnered her a level, cold look. "Drop the act. Clark told me you're a reporter-in-training, and that you take it seriously."

_Damn. you. Clark._

"Fine," she agreed brusquely. "But some things are off the table for me, too."

Lex nodded in tacit agreement.

"Okay, so what's up first?" Chloe asked.

"Have you ever seen Clark run away from a situation before?"

_Woah. Talk about heavy._ "Uh." Chloe's eyes went wide. "...Actually, no." _Shit. I didn't think of that. Why didn't I think of that? --And why did Luthor focus in on that so quickly, he's asked about this twice now -- oh, hell!_

"Clark ran away from home?!" she said, hearing her own voice hit the higher registers, and not caring.

Lex looked a little shocked, then... she couldn't tell, his hand was in the way as he ran it over his face.

"Seriously?"

"-- _No_ ," Lex said shortly. "Clark has _not_ run away from home."

"But he--"

"No," he repeated. "He fully intends on going back," Lex told her.

"Just... not right now."

"..." Lex grimaced slightly, looking away, and muttered. "He's trying to put it off as long as possible." He looked at her. "And that's all I am willing to say on the matter."

"Because..."

"Because I know Clark was planning on telling you at least that much today," Luthor told her. "He came to talk you into not going over to give his parents the third degree."

"Why would I do that to the Kents?"

"You haven't before?"

"No?" she said, frowning. _Is whatever's going on really so bad that he thought I'd be doing that?_

"Clark may be overreacting," Lex said neutrally. "But this morning he discussed getting Pete to 'cover for him', to say he was staying over at Pete's house instead of mine." He grimaced. "You, venturing over to Clark's house to talk to his parents..."

"--would have them getting suspicious, because if I wanted to know something, I'd usually go and ask Clark, and why wouldn't I just go over to Pete's and see Clark, talk to him directly? Because if he had stayed over with the Rosses, then I would have known he had stayed over there last night, after seeing him in school today," she filled in. "Yeah, okay, I can see where he was going with that."

"He made mention that he would tell you what was going on, just... not right now," Lex told her dourly. "As an exchange."

"I get it from him eventually, rather than maybe from his parents right away."

"Yes."

Chloe thought about that.

"And if I'm not okay with that?" she asked Luthor, with a slight smile.

" _ **Learn to exercise patience**_ ," he said, the long drawl accompanied by a truly murderous look.

_Yeesh._ "I'm kidding," she said, with an eyeroll, putting up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I won't. I just wanted to know what you'd say."

"And now you do."

_Guy can't take a joke._ "I think it's your turn again," she told him.

"What are Clark's parents like?"

_What the fuck?_ "Why do you want to know?"

"I've only had all of perhaps fifteen seconds of time in the presence of his father from the bridge," Lex told her. "I've never met his mother. I'd like to know what I'm walking into when Clark's parents catch up with him, which looks like the likelier of the two outcomes, since Clark seems hell-bent on avoiding going home at-present, and the town is in an uproar over where he's been spending the night."

_Okay, so **something** serious is going on at the Kents' place,_ Chloe gathered from this. And Luthor did have a point -- at the rate he was going, he _was_ going to get caught up in the crossfire.

"What do you know so far?" she asked him.

"They're a farming family, they live at the edge of town, and Clark's adopted," Lex summed up succinctly.

_So, not a lot. Well, I can fix that._ But what to tell him? "Jonathan Kent is old-Smallville," she said. "His family's been living in town for ages, back to the founding, I think. His mom, Martha Kent, is from Metropolis. Clark's never talked about her family; I'm not sure he knows them." She made a face. "They sure don't have family get-togethers, anyway." She thought for a moment. "Mr. Kent's parents are dead; they died at least a couple years before Clark was adopted."

"And the people themselves?" Lex prompted.

Chloe felt a little awkward talking about them like this, though she wasn't sure why. "Jonathan Kent's got a temper; Clark gets into fights with him sometimes, but it's mostly stupid stuff. Yelling. Teenager stuff. Martha's a redhead, but she's really sweet, like mom-of-the-century or something, and--"

"You don't have a mother," Lex said suddenly, and Chloe stopped short, feeling like she'd been cut off at the knees.

" _...So?_ " she said angrily, once she'd gotten her breath back. "Clark tell you that?"

Lex sighed and made a placating gesture. "Gabe is the general manager of the plant in town that my father sent me to oversee. I've read his file. All I mean to imply is that it's unlikely that you'll be able to have an objective viewpoint in that regard, given that your mother left when--"

"--I was young, fine, whatever, you've made your point," she said, crossing her arms defensively, because the bastard had gotten to her.

Lex gave her a calm, measuring look.

"...Off-the-record?" he said.

Chloe frowned, but nodded.

"I recognize in you what I see in myself," he shared.

Chloe blinked, startled.

Then she remembered that his mom had died when he was thirteen.

She took a deep breath in and let it out. "Okay, yeah," she said quietly.

"Is there anything else about the Kents I should know?" Lex prodded gently.

Chloe shrugged. "His mom bakes. His dad... owns his own tractor? " She shook her head. "They're just... normal. Disturbingly normal. I don't know."

"Do they keep to themselves?"

_Wha?_ "...I guess? What do you mean?"

"Clark mentioned that they don't come into town often, that they're fairly self-sufficient."

Chloe frowned. "Yeah, I guess," she admitted. "But it's not like they're shut-ins or anything. The baking thing -- Mrs. Kent usually caters desserts for people in town as a side-business. And Mr. Kent and Clark deliver their farm's produce to people. They get off the farm a lot."

"Does Mrs. Kent have any upcoming catering jobs? Does Mr. Kent usually deliver the produce, or does Clark? Do they ever use a delivery service instead of carting it around themselves?"

Chloe suddenly saw where he was going with this. "I don't think Mrs. Kent has anything right now. I bet Clark would've mentioned it earlier; he usually does, because he likes to help taste-test," she said with a slight smile. "He looks forward to it. He doesn't usually eat a lot of sugary sweets and stuff. ...And Clark usually delivers the produce," she said, "but if he's not home..."

"...it will fall to Jonathan to do it, not someone else outside the family?"

Chloe nodded.

"So Clark's hopes that they won't hear about his having stayed the night at the mansion won't fly," Lex said, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the wall, as he frowned to himself. "Not with everyone in town talking about it." He looked up at her, an angry question in his eyes.

"Hey, even if the extra staff you got from town for move-in didn't have to sign those non-disclosure agreements that your family loves to over-use, people would've known," Chloe chided him. "You guys were stupid about it."

Lex frowned at her furiously, but said in perfectly polite tones, "How so?"

_Yeah, so 'perfectly polite' I could probably cut diamond on those edges._

Chloe quirked a smile at him, totally amused. "Well, the two of you drove straight through the middle of town this morning. If half the town didn't see you the first time, well, that other half certainly saw you when you drove back through it again."

Lex got a pained look.

"You weren't thinking." Chloe felt a bubble of amusement.

"I asked Clark for directions," Lex said. "I don't think either of us were thinking of any subterfuge other than how he could get a change of clothes and his school supplies while avoiding his parents."

"Wait..." Chloe said. "You took him home, and didn't..."

"I didn't know what the situation was at the time," Lex said sourly, "only that he needed to avoid them."

_But you took him in anyway?_ Chloe's eyebrows went up. Instead of asking that directly, she went for, "Needed? Not wanted?"

"A poor choice of words, perhaps."

_Or not, and Clark really, really didn't want to go home._

"I don't know them," Lex told her. "And I don't know that forcing a confrontation would be good for Clark, even after what you've told me."

"They love him," Chloe told him, dead-serious.

He grimaced at that and looked away, then said, "I can't make that decision for him."

_Shit. I tell him that -- and I **know** he believed me just now -- and he... seems even more adamant about not forcing Clark to go home? --Jesus, what the hell is going on with you and your parents, Clark?_

Chloe almost wished she hadn't pushed, because now she was downright _worried_ about Clark. ...Almost enough to go off and interrogate his parents, except she'd made a promise not to. _Goddamit. Clark knew what he was doing._

...And so had Lex.

She took in a shaky breath and curled her arms around herself. She was _angry_ with him. With Clark.

"Off-the-record," Lex said again.

"...Yeah?"

"Do you know why Clark didn't come to you earlier?" Lex asked her.

Chloe's head snapped up. She shook her head once.

"Do you want to know?" he asked her, his voice colorless glass.

Chloe bit her lip.

And that was when she got a little angry with herself. Any other time, she'd be raring to go, wanting to know everything. She shouldn't be hesitant like this!

"Yes, I want to know," she told Lex, fiercely adamant, looking him right in the eye as she did.

His eyes flashed. She should've taken it as the warning sign that it was.

He didn't break gaze. What he _did_ do was take a slow breath in, and begin with, "He didn't go over to Pete's house, because of his mother. Mrs. Ross would have noticed he was upset and called his parents over."

_Getting the preliminaries out of the way, fine,_ Chloe thought, and nodded for him to continue.

Lex nodded once, curtly, in return. "He didn't go over to your house..." he said, "because you would have kept at him, never letting up, never allowing him a moment to catch his breath, until you'd cracked him open and pulled it out of him. At least, that is what he told me. Is he correct?"

"Damn straight," she said with pride.

"Yes," he said mildly, "I see."

And then he said, "Tell me, Chloe, after you'd finished destroying his defenses and wrenching whatever you thought you deserved to know out of him, what, exactly, would have been left?"

...Something was wrong with the way he'd put that, and Chloe stared at him blankly.

"...What?"

"What would have been left?" Lex asked her. "What would Clark be, after you had reduced him to an object that you needed to break open and damage however you needed to, to get what you wanted out of him to satisfy your curiosity?" he asked her. "Because what we're talking about isn't some 'dog-ate-my-homework', 'I-secretly-like-this-Lana-girl-in-my-class' sort of thing," he told her.

Chloe was stunned speechless, but Luthor looked fucking furious.

"This is the sort of thing that had Clark _running_ , when he doesn't ever run, from his parents, _who love him_ , coming over to _my_ mansion in the middle of the night, thinking he would be alone, not expecting to run into anyone else... and having him run into me and _break down crying_ in my arms -- **me** \-- a complete stranger, whose life he'd saved earlier that afternoon under what would normally be considered traumatic circumstances, as I'd been nothing more than a dripping-wet _corpse_ when he'd pulled me out of my wreck of a car -- someone he'd had all but a few short minutes of time sitting next to on the edge of a riverbank, and no meaningful interaction with -- someone who his father had _just_ finished portraying as one of those evil Luthors, look how they borrowed, cheated, and stole their way into money -- and he stayed at my mansion, with _me_ , for the night, and cried himself to sleep in my arms, on a couch in my study."

Chloe blanched.

"And then, the next morning, he barely worked up the courage to ask me if he could stay over again the next night."

Luthor was furious, and not at Clark.

Chloe felt sick.

"And I told him yes, because I knew how desperate he must be, to not have anyplace else left to go where he'd feel safe--

She wanted to cover her ears, to not listen, because this reminded her of when her mom--

"--to be able to have the space to think and breathe and think about _other things_ \--"

\--had left, and when she couldn't, she couldn't deal with--

"--to not have to deal with it, just for a little while--"

\--any of it, and her dad had walked around like a zombie for weeks--

"--and now he's run away again, and I have no idea where he is--"

\--because he hadn't known, couldn't understand, and it wasn't her mom not being there--

"--or if he'll come to the mansion later, or where he'll go if he doesn't--"

\--because she'd not been there before, run off at a moment's notice and come back again--

"--because if he doesn't come to the mansion, if he doesn't think he has anyplace he can go--"

\--except she'd always left a note before, only the last time had been different, they'd both known that much, at least--

"--if he doesn't have anyplace where he can run _to_ \--"

\--it was the _not knowing_ that had made it absolute _hell_ \--

" _Stop!_ " Chloe shrieked.

Lex stopped.

Chloe ran a shaking hand over her face, and it came back wet. She hadn't realized she'd been crying.

She rubbed at her eyes, angry with herself and the world and, just, _everything_ right now.

"It's worse for him," Lex informed her coldly. "He's living through it right now. And you need to let him deal with it without pushing him."

_Fine._ She glared daggers at him. _You bastard. You've made your point._

"So help me god, Luthor," Chloe told him hoarsely. "If I don't push him, then _you don't either_ ," she ground out. "And if you **ever** do to him what you just did to me--" She swallowed hard, but Clark was her friend, and he was worth it. "So help me God, if you ever even _think_ about hurting him--"

"I won't."

They stood across the room from each other, only a few feet away, silently staring each other down.

She wanted to tell him to get out, curse him out, but she knew better. _You don't mess with the Luthors._

And he hadn't even done anything really. No blackmail, no threats, no phone call to a dirty cop for false charges that could destroy her life. He'd just used words on her.

She shivered as he turned and headed for the door.

He pulled the door open, then paused at the threshold.

"Oh, one more thing," Lex said, and wasn't that just the Luthors all over? There was always 'one more thing'.

"...Yeah?" Chloe grumbled, arms crossed.

He turned his head slightly, looked at her sideways over his shoulder, and was that a smirk? _Is he actually smirking at me? After all that? Fucking--_ "Someone broke into the football trophy case in the front lobby shortly after school let out. Clark thought that you might be interested in taking some photos of the 'scene of the crime' and comparing them against some of the older yearbook pictures to see what, if anything, is missing."

Then he turned back and walked out, leaving the door hanging ajar.

Chloe stared after him.

She processed that.

She got pissed.

"YOU BASTARD!" she shouted after him, then added in an irate shriek as she got a good look at the clock, "-- _You couldn't tell me that **first?!?!**_ "

And then she was too busy to really give him a proper piece of her mind, as she made a mad scramble for her digital camera, cursing under her breath all the while, because the rest of that bullshit couldn't have fucking waited?!?

She dashed out of the Torch newsroom, slid across the linoleum floor, and took off at a dead run for the entrance, straight-on right past Luthor -- god knew what she was missing in the intervening seconds, after the time already wasted. --It had been a good ten, almost fifteen minutes since school had let out and the crime committed, at least!

She swore she must've imagined the echo of a chuckle she heard reverberating down the hallway behind her.

And she really had no idea whatsoever why she was grinning so hard as she raced down the hallway, the camera on its strap over her shoulder banging against her side, hard on the heels of her next story.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Clark had wanted to run away. So he did.

And he did run, for awhile. Keeping his head down, hiding in speed, he ran.

His thoughts became fuzzy with distance.

His thoughts were fuzzy for awhile.

And that was okay.

But then he thought of Lex.

His head slowly came up.

Lex.

Lex had said...

~~\--It's not your fault.~~

~~I'm fine, really.~~

~~If I was given the choice--~~

...Clark could stay with him.

He slowed to a stop.

Because...

...he didn't have to run. Not for ever and ever.

He had someplace he could go.

He ran to Lex.

~*~*~*~*~*~


	5. There's no place like...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, thank you, I am _well aware_ that this didn't quite happen the exact same way as the first time 'round. Just feel free to assume that it's another small way that my AU is professing changes from the original canon :-P
> 
> ...Why yes, I _had_ written this part out well in-advance -- and it's been left waiting in the wings -- for some time! (around when I finished chapter 2, actually ^_^;; ) -- with only minor changes since. *nods* I hope you enjoy it! (...along with the previous two chapters of this installment :)

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Clark walked into the library, two people were swordfighting.

Like, literally. There were swords. And there was fighting with them. It was like something out of a Zorro movie.

...except for the whole huge amount of white padding and big silver helmets thing, and that was about the point that Clark realized that this was supposed to be a sport. Or exercise. Or something. Plus, there were maybe a lot less chandeliers involved.

It was kind of bizarre, but also not. _Probably because it's very Lex,_ Clark thought, remembering the fireplace poker from the night before.

Weirdly, it somehow helped make it feel almost like... coming home.

_Well, yeah, because where else would Lex feel comfortable swinging a sword around like that?_ He'd scare the police shitless if he did anything like this around the middle of town. _Probably could take them on and win, though,_ Clark realized, _'cause everybody would just be too shocked to hell and back to do any more than stand around gawking, watching him do whatever._

Then Clark considered the crazy thought from a couple angles. _Surprise-sword beats gun? Chloe would totally have a field day with that one. And once Pete weighed in on it, it would be the whole 'ninja versus pirate' debate of eighth grade all over again._ He gave a mental groan when that last part occurred to him, because this sort of thing would just bring it up all over again, and here he'd thought they'd finally gotten past that! _Maybe I can keep this one to myself,_ he hoped fervently. _Lex probably wouldn't swing a sword around town, so there'd be no way for anybody else to find out ...right?_

Clark relaxed a little. It didn't look like Lex or his partner-fighting-opponent had noticed him come in, and Clark didn't want to interrupt as they went back and forth -- that would be really rude. Plus, it looked kind of cool, maybe even a little... _bad-ass_. They both totally knew what they were doing. So Clark just quietly slipped over to the side and slid his backpack off down next to the couch to sit down and watch, wide-eyed.

It took awhile, but not as long as maybe it should have, to figure out which white-padded person was Lex.

And suddenly, Lex... lost, Clark figured, because the fight stopped, and Lex got mad, and flipped his sword up into his hand, and _threw it into the wall_.

Clark's head whipped around to follow the motion, and then he sat there and watched the thing as it vibrated up and down in place where it had hit.

Clark stared at it, waiting for it to fall, except it looked stuck there, right by the door. He tilted his head slightly, still staring at the sword -- wow, it was really stuck in there good, wasn't it? -- and listened to Lex cursing up a storm with half an ear.

At least until Lex cut himself off.

"...Clark?" he heard, so Clark turned his head.

Lex had pulled off his helmet, and was looking at him, a little shocked.

"Did you just make a hole in your wall?" Clark sort-of asked him in rising tones, because duh, _of course_ he'd just made a hole in the wall, that sword totally wasn't going _anywhere_.

Lex blinked at him.

"...No," said Lex, frowning a little, and shifting his helmet under an arm.

Clark was about to call him on it, except he realized that, wait, the mansion-castle was made of _stone_ , right? So had Lex actually--?

Clark turned his head to stare at the sword a little more carefully -- but no, Lex hadn't -- so he just sighed at Lex's literal word choice issues, because he was pretty sure that _he_ was supposed to be the teenager here, not Lex. ...unless Lex was regressing or something (SAT word), which might also be fun. So Clark felt a little smirky himself when he turned back to Lex again, pointing at the offending sword.

"Did you just make a hole in the _wood paneling_ **around** the _d--?_ "

"--It's fine," Lex cut him off, striding forward and pulling the sword out of the wall with a hard jerking motion that seemed to jolt through his whole arm.

Oh, yeah. Lex was _totally_ gonna get in trouble for putting holes in his house. With, y'know, _somebody_.

"Did you just have to _brace yourself_ to get it out?" Clark asked.

"No," Lex denied.

Clark grinned.

"...What?"

"Ms. Beatrice is gonna be mad at you."

Lex gave him a blank look.

Right. Lex was new to home-ownership. Explanations were in order!

"Well, that's wood. You can't just spackle over _wood--_ "

"Beatrice takes care of the kitchen and the food," Lex informed him, walking back over and slapping his sword down on a handy nearby table abruptly. "The rest of the house is not her domain."

"Well, whose domain is it, then?" Clark asked innocently, sitting up straight on the edge of the couch and letting his hands fall into his lap.

Lex turned back to stare at him.

Clark grinned even wider.

"You're in tro--" Clark started, sing-song.

"No, I'm not," Lex insisted, setting down his helmet a little more gently than the sword and grabbing a towel. He nodded his swordfighting opponent off. She was some woman Clark hadn't seen before, in the morning rush earlier, so he guessed she wasn't one of Lex's 'normal staff'. Then Lex looped the towel over his shoulders, and wiped off his forehead as he turned back to face him.

"You made a hole in your wall," Clark teased. "You _so_ are--"

Lex gave him a look, or at least...

"Are you trying to give me a **look**?" Clark asked, trying not to laugh, with a lot more success than Lex was having at pulling off a proper **look**. "'Cause I think that maybe you have to be a parent for that to work, not just an adult. You should just roll your eyes," Clark told him, and yeah, Clark was _so_ going to make Lex roll his eyes at him sometime, if only because it looked like Lex was trying to get away with doing anything _but_. "You know you want to," Clark tried, egging him on.

Lex eyed him as he let go of the end of the towel to bend over and open a small mini-fridge. He grabbed himself a bottle of water and straightened.

"What are you doing, here?" Lex asked casually as he twisted the cap off his water. It was really an actual question, and suddenly Clark felt... contrite. (Another SAT word.)

He also felt like he'd just accidentally stepped the wrong way and fallen down a hole.

"Um. You said I could come over whenever?" Clark said slowly, hoping that he hadn't actually worn out his welcome already, coming over again too soon when he obviously hadn't been expected ...and maybe teasing him a little too hard.

And running out on him at the Torch, when he'd come to pick him up from school. And wasting his time.

Lex blinked, then frowned slightly.

Then he smiled.

"I suppose I did, didn't I?" he said, taking a sip contemplatively. The smile turned into a small amused smirk. "'Whenever' is whenever, isn't it?"

Clark tentatively smiled back, still a little unsure as to his welcome.

...at least until Lex grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge and tossed it to him. Clark caught it deftly and stared at it, then started to grin because--

Yeah, everything was okay.

It was going to be okay.

And Lex had said that he was fine, hadn't he? After the meteor shower?

\--Which he totally was not thinking about right now.

Clark took in a deep breath.

"So, since I'm here, and you're here... want to learn how to fix holey wood?" Clark asked mock-brightly, making the sign of a cross with the hand holding the water bottle.

Lex nearly did a spit-take.

Then he laughed.

And then what Clark had been pretending at became real. Clark felt awesome. --It was all in the timing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"I suppose I should put my resident handyman to good use, then?" Lex teased gently, and Clark blushed, then frowned a little down at his hands. "Something wrong?"

" _Would_ it be bad if I..." Clark trailed off.

"...stayed the night again?" Lex supplied. "Not at all." He gave Clark a careful, long look. "I did say you could stay over before, didn't I? For as long as you want? That hasn't changed, and it won't."

WIth the way the tension in Clark's shoulders began to ease, Lex felt relieved himself. Clark had spoken quietly, and he hadn't been quite sure if he'd responded to Clark in too breezy a tone. He had wanted to be reassuring and welcoming, but without pressing too hard or too urgently; he didn't want to pressure his young friend, or risk driving him away... again.

It hadn't escaped him how upset Clark had been upon being confronted with the discovery of and introduction to the young Miss Sullivan's Wall of Weird, and how he'd run out when he'd originally planned on returning to the mansion with Lex right after school. Lex was happy to play host to the young teen; what he _wasn't_ , was sure as to how prudent it would be to attempt a reconciliation between Clark and his adoptive parents.

He was still of a mind not to force Clark to return to a home situation where he might be unwanted or, worse, at danger. Chloe's protestations to the contrary aside, no-one should have to live in a house without love and concern, and while Lex had believe that Chloe was telling the truth -- _as she saw it_ \-- that did not mean that she was correct in her determination.

...or that it was still true.

Because somehow, Lex doubted that _too much_ loving concern had been the cause of Clark's flight from his home and family. He doubted Clark would find such to be too _stifling_ ; if anything, he seemed to need, if not crave, _more_ of it.

And Lex would happily supply such to his bridge-found savior, insofar as he was able. What he was more concerned about was the fact that right now Clark still obviously didn't feel comfortable enough to go home yet. So, if Clark ran off again, like he had at the Torch, but this time from _here_... The concern he'd shared in rather brutal fashion with Chloe still stood as valid -- where would he have left to go?

What would he do?

_There's a simple solution to that,_ Lex told himself. _I'll just have to make sure that he never feels as though he has to run away from here,_ Lex thought firmly. _Or me._ Lex **wanted** Clark to always feel like he could come to him. Always.

_And if that involves ignoring what happened in the Torch for awhile..._ Well, Lex could do that.

Admittedly, he had been surprised -- but happy ~~and relieved beyond belief~~ \-- that Clark had shown up out of nowhere. Though he'd been confused for a bit when Clark had misinterpreted his question regarding his teasing behavior at first, now that they were both on the same page... _It won't be a problem,_ he promised himself decisively.

In the meantime, while Clark was here and in somewhat of a good mood, Lex was going to enjoy his company to the fullest measure possible. _And, hopefully, I'll be able to help him **keep** that good mood for quite some time._

He sat down his water bottle on the coffee table in front of the couch and tossed down the towel from his neck beside it. Then he took a moment to shuck off the restrictive padded vest and toss it onto the other end, while reclaiming his towel and sinking onto the couch next to Clark with a sigh.

Clark took in a breath, and Lex could almost _hear_ the mocking getting ready to recommence once again.

That was all right. If Clark wanted to 'play'? Lex could play.

"You're all sweaty."

_And I'm not disappointed._ Though it was interesting -- there was no censure in Clark's tone, just amusement, as before. Lex wondered if Clark would offer to help him clean up his couch, too, like fixing the door, in a game attempt to 'help keep him from getting in trouble' for that as well.

Instead of choosing to voice any of this, however, Lex opted to share the following: "The couch still has a sheet tossed over it," while he motioned to the sheet underneath their bodies.

"It's not _that_ thick."

"Is this your way of trying to get me into a shower?" Lex passed back mildly, closing his eyes, because two could play at that game. That was, in fact, the perfect sort of game for two.

"Um," he heard, and Lex cracked open an eye to see... no blush. "Is the hot water not working again?" he was asked.

_Oh, Clark, Clark, Clark. That just **sailed** right over your head, didn't it?_ Lex realized, his mouth slowly twitching up at the corners.

"The hot water is fine, last I heard," Lex let him know. "I even have additional towels and clothing to choose from, I believe."

"Well, that's good," Clark said, slumping back into the couch.

Lex tried again, in a different manner. "Is this your unsubtle way of telling me that you want me to take a shower?"

"Yes," said Clark automatically, before pausing.

_Then_ Clark blushed.

"Wait, no," Clark stammered. "--I mean, you don't _stink_ or smell _bad_ or anything, I just, uh--"

Lex watched him in utter fascination.

As Clark gave rambling but very sincere apologies, Lex was struck by a somewhat random and untoward thought -- two, actually.

Those thoughts were: _He's cute when he's embarrassed,_ followed by a distinct urge to rumple the teen's hair, followed by the second thought, _I want to keep him._

...which was then followed by the thought, _No, wait, that seems a bit antisocial,_ because Lex knew full-well that a person couldn't keep other people as... pets or similar. Not without serious social and moral repercussions, anyway, of the sort Lex was _not_ inclined to have to deal with. _Not that I exactly want Clark as a pet..._ since that didn't exactly fit his emotional response quite right, _so what do I want him as?_

And then it hit him. _A brother. I want to adopt him as a little brother._

_...Wait. I don't think that works, either,_ Lex realized. Kids got adopted by parents as children, after all, not by older siblings as younger ones. There was no paperwork for the latter, as far as he knew. _I suppose we could still treat each other a little like that, unofficially?_ he thought in consolation to himself. _He seems to have the teasing down. Younger siblings do that, right? Try to exasperate their older-but-wiser brothers for fun?_

_Yes. Brothers,_ Lex mentally decided. _We shall be brothers._ He'd always wanted one; Clark seemed amenable, if his behavior was any indication. Clark also seemed like he'd make a pretty interesting and caring one. Lex would do the same, and ~~he wasn't thinking about Julian at all--~~

\--well, with that settled, Lex should probably stop Clark before he turned so bright red he combusted. Maybe this would involve a hair-tussle or pat on the shoulder, one of the two, _Hm, a hard decision... which one, which..._

What did not occur to him at the time, however, was the fact that, in order to have Clark as a brother, _Lex's_ father would have to be _Clark's_ father, too...

~*~*~*~*~*~


	6. Nighttime in the Country

~*~*~*~*~*~

Clark blinked awake at an odd, unexpected sound.

He pushed himself upright on the couch, rubbing at his eyes, and blinked blearily over the back of the couch towards the double-doors that opened in on Lex's library.

 _...Huh?_ he thought, straightening up a bit more. He frowned slightly. _Why is Lana's Aunt Nell here?_

"Oh, Clark," she said. "You're still here?"

"Um..." he glanced over at Lex, who was standing next to her in the doorway. It looked like they'd been talking. He'd probably woken up at hearing Nell's voice.

"It's fine, Clark," Lex told him with a gentle smile. "It's business. She has some land she's thinking about selling. We're just talking."

"...Okay," Clark said, _not really any of my business_ , then had to stifle a yawn.

"Have you finished your homework yet?" Lex asked him.

Clark blinked and glanced over at the books and papers he'd spread out over the coffee table... well, 'spread out' was relative. It kind of looked more like a messy explosion, actually.

Clark had to shake his head. "Still got to finish my social studies essay," he grumbled a little, reaching for his textbook with a sigh and pulling it towards him. He hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch, but he'd felt so tired...

"You should get some dinner into him soon if you haven't already," he heard Nell tell Lex. "He's used to keeping farm hours. Up at 5, bed by 9." Weirdly, she didn't sound angry like she usually did when the subject of him came up, only mildly somewhat amused.

"Mm," said Lex, and it sounded like a 'yes'.

"...Food?" Clark asked, perking up and turning to look back at Lex.

Lex was smiling at him, and he gave him a small nod. "I'll ask Ms. Beatrice about dinner," he said. "Homework first."

"'K," Clark agreed, turning back to his papers and stuff.

He half-heard the doors slide shut behind the two adults, already engrossed in his the next chapter. He shifted in place and tried to wake up a little more and actually _understand_ what he was reading so he could write about it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lex quietly closed the library doors behind him, and nodded to one of the serving staff -- the one who had told Lex who was at the door and then escorted Nell Potter to him -- who had still been standing nearby in the hallway and had heard their muted conversation. He had no doubt that dinner would be ready right as he concluded his business with his unexpected guest. He'd been about to show her to another room -- trying to avoid waking Clark up -- when Clark had woken up. Funny, that.

"Shall we?" he said, with a gesture, moving off.

The woman smiled and followed.

He walked her to a sitting room, and held the door for her, for propriety's sake. She blushed just a tad at his 'chivalry' -- an affected response of her own -- and let him, stepping forward into the room as if she belonged there, though not as though she owned it.

She'd done this before.

"I hear tell that you are interested in selling some of your land?" he began. "More of it?"

"Yes," Nell told him, sitting down on a well-upholstered armchair easily. "I've done business with your father before. I thought you might be interested in owning some of your own property in town, as well."

 _Ah._ A veritable hit, coached very carefully. After all, Lex did not own the mansion. _Clever woman._ "I might, depending on the location and price. What did you have in mind?"

They got down to brass tacks over some light appetizers and good wine, and Lex discovered why, exactly, his father had left her with a somewhat good impression of Luthors in general. She was straightforward in her dealings, spoke her mind withut being crude or grossly impolite, and not only was she obviously aware of what her property was worth, she was also perfectly willing to sell it for slightly less than market value -- current, not projected on possible future earning potential.

And she did talk up that future earning potential quite well, with multiple suggestions and plans for how he might make money off of them. She answered all of his questions -- was _able_ to -- with as much detail as he asked for; she didn't leave anything out, pros or cons. She could have easily taken out a loan and fixed several of the lots and buildings up herself. It was clear that the only thing stopping her was that she simply didn't feel like investing the time herself.

There was only one thing that was bothering him.

"Did you truly come over to see me, or to check up on Clark?" he asked her, and she laughed.

"Oh, I could care less about what he's up to over here, so long as he's away from that farm," Nell told him.

"Truly?" Lex said with a raised eyebrow. "You could care less?"

Nell gave him a very parental look of slight admonishment. "You don't actually have him over here as a rentboy." It was not really a question, but as the silence drew out, she straightened slightly and started to look a little uncertain.

"No, he's not over here as my 'rentboy'," he told her.

At his confirmation, Nell breathed out a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed. And that was what Lex had been hoping to see.

She shook her head at him. "Honestly, give a girl a heart attack, why don't you?"

"Never!" Lex disavowed with a slight laugh. "But why didn't you think that?" Lex asked her, curious. "The rest of the town seems hell-bent on thinking so."

Nell gave him a wicked smirk. "Oh, I saw the truck out front, all right. Yesterday afternoon, and still there this morning. I live just across the street from them, about a mile away. But while I might not put it past Martha, Jon would _never_ ," she told him vehemently.

 _Interesting. She thinks better of Jonathan than Martha._ It was almost the exact opposite of what Chloe had said. _I wonder why._

Lex poured out some more wine for them both, then sat back in his chair and tilted his head for her to continue, because that required a little more explanation than that.

She sighed and took another sip, reclining back and savoring the taste, settling in herself. "Well, when I heard the first rumors, I didn't go quite overboard like the rest of the sheep around here, wagging their tongues over nothing-much-really. So I called up a friend of mine in the sheriff's department and asked after you, to see if I could figure out the why of it," she said. "I know, just like everybody else does but seemed to somehow forget, that that truck was pocket change to you. What I couldn't figure out was _why him_."

She swirled her wine a bit, and took another sip before continuing. "You couldn't hardly know each other, I thought, and I'd never heard of your having a preference for the less fair of the sexes -- though the boy's certainly pretty enough at a first-glance," she mused, with an odd undertone to her voice, as though Clark were some sort of man-eating beautifully-flowering plant. "But the reasoning just, well, _wasn't_."

"If you were into... that sort of thing," she said with a look of distaste and warning, and Lex thoroughly approved of her reaction to the thought, "you'd certainly kept it under wraps up 'til that point. Your father's smart. I'd heard tell you were, too. I'd hardly expect you to be stupid about it; I doubt he'd allow it. And he's a freshman, and under the age of consent. So if that was what had happened, then the rumor ought not be flying all over town."

"True enough," said Lex.

"And as to how you'd have known to, well, _go after him_ in the first place..." She shook her head. "They live on the outskirts of town, and none of them venture out all that much. You'd have had to have been staked out at the high-school, watching them all and deciding, and one of the deputies would have noticed that."

"So, you called."

"Yes," she said, with a nod. Then she drained her glass, and let out a sigh. "Well, I heard about your accident at the bridge, and Clark's role in getting you out of the water -- you _did_ go to the hospital after, I hope?" she asked.

"Yes," Lex told her, easily enough. "I'm to go in for a full physical in about a week or two, so that they have updated records for comparison. I haven't been in to any doctor for so long, they're thoroughly out of date." He took another sip of his own wine, then took the opportunity to refill her glass.

He was pacing himself, and could handle a great deal more alcohol than this. Nell, on the other hand, was letting the taste -- and lack of aftertaste -- lull her into a false sense of security. And Lex was perfectly happy to take advantage of this.

"Good," she told him firmly. "I wouldn't worry about the lack of need, that's normal around these parts. We've all gotten used to scheduling six-month check-ups like clockwork, or nobody would ever go in, hardly."

...Interesting. Interesting and odd. _Was this one of the town oddities that Chloe had alluded to?_ Though it seemed rather benign...

"Well," she waved it off, and picked up her glass again. "In any event, that explained your having met the Kent boy, and the truck, neatly enough. Spending the night, well," she shrugged. "There are any number of reasons for that. He does that with the youngest Ross boy often enough, and I thought I might've heard Jon yelling after him that afternoon, trying to call him back. --One of the few afternoons I've closed the flower shop early, by-the-by. I only did it to prepare for..." She gestured at the files they'd laid out between them around the table.

Lex nodded. "So... you knew quite early on that the rumors were false." He took another sip, and contemplated whether he should ask or not, but, given her personality... "Why didn't you set the record straight? You could have."

Nell laughed and shook her head. "Ah, there was no harm done," she told him. "Other than for those fools spreading something like that around, and risking jail time or worse. False accusations like that are taken quite seriously 'round these parts," she told him. "I knew that the truth would out within a day or two. And, frankly, I like the idea of most of the town thinking of Martha as something other than that Metropolis girl who walks on water, and can do no wrong," she ended darkly, taking a gulp of her wine.

"Oh?" Lex said.

Nell let a breath out through her nose -- not quite a snort -- and shook her head. "That woman," she began, "stole my boyfriend from me."

"Jonathan Kent?"

"Yes," she said. "We'd been going steady up to college, and he was going places." Her eyes went a little distant. "He was the star quarterback, won the state championship, even, and I was the head cheerleader. We were the town's darlings, but we were better than this place, and we wanted more."

Lex's eyebrows slowly went up.

She sighed dreamily, staring off in recollection. "He was going to leave town, you know," she told Lex. "He was going to leave town, and take me with him." Her lips twisted downwards. "And then she came along, the girl from Metropolis, and flipped her bright red hair and flirted at him, and he was like a moth to flame."

"And he never left town," Lex said quietly.

"No," she said sadly. "His father got sick, he started helping out on the farm more and more. He got stuck. And then her father found out about him and made a big stink. Thought he wasn't good enough for her." Her tone said exactly what she thought of _that_. "I thought that'd be the end of it -- not because Jon would've given up, but because Martha was from money. Why would she risk getting cut off?" she said.

"But they did..." Lex said slowly.

"They did, and she did, and there she was, living on the farm with him and his parents, and..." She made a noise of disgust. "Do you know, she couldn't boil water when she first arrived? Burned toast. It took her," she said, reaching out and setting her empty glass down on the table, " _five years_ before she was able to manage anything the least bit edible." She got a pinched look. "And she never stopped improving. Now she bakes the best damn apple pie in the entire state," she told Lex. "I get her to cater my get-togethers sometimes."

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "I _hate_ that woman," she said almost contemplatively, like she was testing an old festering wound to make sure it was still there.

"...And what does this have to do with Clark?" Lex asked quietly.

"Oh, that boy's nothing but trouble," he was told. "You'd best be staying away from him."

Lex blinked.

"Far as I'm concerned," she continued, "he's nothing but bad luck brought with the shower. Or he brought it with him." She paused, and her brow furrowed slightly. She looked up at Lex, her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she wagged a finger at him. "Oh, now, that's not nice," she said. "Getting a lady drunk like this."

"I hardly know what you mean," Lex said smoothly, taking another sip from his wineglass.

"Ha," she said, as she sat up a bit and teetered in place. "Thought so," she said quietly. "Wouldn't have said that if I wasn't so sloshed." She gave him a lazy, amused smirk. "If you want to know why I don't like the boy, though, you could've just asked. Hell, even he knows," she said.

"Mm, I think I'd ratehr hear it from you," Lex told her.

"Fair enough," she said easily. "Something's not quite right with him," he was told. "I couldn't place it at first, but he just showed up, day of the meteor shower, right out of nowhere." She paused as she reached for the glass of water Lex handed over to her. "Thank you. --Jon and Martha had been trying to get pregnant for ages." She paused, then gave out a little chuckle. "Well, one of them, anyway. You know what I mean," she said, eyes twinkling.

"I do."

She nodded. "They gave up. Had to. Martha was barren as a driven desert wasteland. Nothing for it. I thought that might finally break them up, because Jon wanted a large family -- always had," Lex was told. "But instead they went on for adoption."

"And got Clark."

Nell got a wide, angry grin that was almost a sneer, and went away just as quick. "No, I don't think so. That's the part that doesn't fit."

Lex blinked at her. "...Go on."

"I saw them all the time, back then," said Nell. "They had 'hands helping them work the farm, were pillars of the community, always out and about, the whole nine." She sighed. "They'd go in for hearing after adoption hearing at agency after agency, and get turned down flat. Every damn time," she said. "And I'd see Jon walking around for days, all worrying and hopeful after an agency visit, and then would come the letter in the mailbox, and he'd get all excited, and open it, and..." She shook her head. "Then he'd mope for days on end."

She looked up at Lex, right in the eye. "You can better believe, that if he'd gotten a 'yes' instead of a 'no', he'd've been crowing it all over town, and if not, I'd still have seen it," she waved her water glass in her hand angrily, "and a good couple of his 'hands were right gossips, would have seen it and spread it themselves." She set the glass down angrily. "That whole 'we wanted to keep it a secret' manure they spread around after the fact just doesn't fly."

"Nobody questioned it."

She shook her head. "Far as I can tell, the paperwork must be legit. The schools and all-else would've caught them out, otherwise."

Lex took a breath, and let it out again.

"...What do I need to know about them?" he asked her.

She smiled. They both knew it was the right question, and that she'd be happy to answer it.

"Two things," she told him. "First thing -- Jon hates your family. Don't know why. Just that he does, and worse than the Rosses, believe you me." She downed a little more of her water. "He talks up a good game about it, but I know when he's hiding something, and what sets him temper off, and he's got a reason, and it ain't just seeing and hearing about some of the deals Lionel did in town." She got a little worried moue. "Something's there."

She shook her head. "Anyhow. Moment he hears Clark's up here, you can better believe he'll be up here like a shot, and don't expect any real sense out of him. He'll be angry as hell."

"And the second thing?"

"Besides me being biased as hell?" She laughed, then sobered. "Clark's a bit... odd. Takes awhile to see it, but he is."

Lex thought about the bridge and felt a little shiver of cold shoot down his spine.

 _Awhile is relative,_ he thought, and sat very still.

"He's... well, he and Pete and my Lana and that Arkin boy used to play together when they were younger," she told him. "We'd take turns watching them together. Seemed all right, at first." She frowned. "But, well, I didn't want Clark around her. So I put a stop to that."

Lex frowned a little, because she almost sounded vaguely... _smug_ , at the last.

"The Kents started isolating themselves as he grew up," he was told. "The farm's gone into debt now, and not because they don't have the land to farm. They've got 40-acres that's just been sitting there doing nothing for years. And when they lost farmhands, they 'just' never hired new ones on, so it's only the three of them, now."

"...And this is Clark's fault?" Lex asked tentatively.

"There's something they don't want getting out," Nell told him. "And it only started after him."

 _Yes,_ Lex thought. _They've been trying to raise a mostly-invulnerable farmboy ...who can apparently bend steel with his hands,_ because he'd finally gotten a chance to get a good look at what was left of his half-totalled car frame that afternoon, after Clark had run off from the school grounds, and Lex had finally made his way back home. He'd had to have Heidi come over and give him a good thrashing via sword, just because he'd needed an outlet for all the nervous energy.

 _Gossipy farmhands would not be conducive to keeping that a secret,_ Lex thought sourly.

He wondered exactly how much Nell knew.

"He's also been sniffing after Lana lately, which I don't like," Nell said. "Not that he can get in close." She grinned nastily, then sobered again. "But I thought that of him before, so..." She shrugged, then glanced at her watch. "Actually, I ought to be getting back to the house soon," she said, careful to take her time as she stood up. "I don't doubt Whitney's going to try and sneak some time with her while I'm away. If I'm lucky, I might be able to surprise them," she grinned with no small mischief, a little more genuinely.

"Shy boyfriend?" Lex asked, standing as well. "Or rowdy and in need of a large stick?" he added, just to hear Nell snicker.

"Older boyfriend," Nell corrected. "She's a freshman, he's a senior." She got a small smile. "I'm less worried about him doing something she doesn't want, and more worried about her telling him what she does want."

"Ah. High school hormones," Lex said dryly.

Nell laughed.

There was a knock at the door, and then Clark poked his head in.

"Um," he said. "Dinner's ready?" He stopped short when he saw Nell -- it was clear he hadn't expected her to still be there. "Sorry," said Clark. "Ms. Beatrice told me to tell you--"

"It's fine, Clark," Lex told him, to forestall any further apology or explanation. He turned to Nell and gave her a sidelong look. "You _are_ welcome to join us--" but he stopped when she shook her head in amusement.

"No, I really should get back," she said.

"Might I offer you a car?" he asked, and at Clark's look of confusion, he sighed and had to revise it to, "That is, a ride home from one of my people?"

Nell stifled a laugh. "If you don't mind," she said. "I've driven myself a bit more tipsy than this, but I'd rather not."

Lex nodded as they three moved into the hallway, and he walked them down to the carport.

Nell was eyeing Clark, and Clark was looking teenaged and uncomfortable.

"...Do you know why I don't like you?" Nell challenged him, which nearly made Lex start.

"Uh," said Clark, glancing over at Lex.

Lex stifled a sigh, and made a 'go ahead' gesture.

Clark kind of looked at her askance.

Then he said, "Because you used to date my dad, and you don't like my mom."

"And?"

Clark looked a little sullen, and maybe, just maybe, a mite... rebellious? "Because Lana's a girl, and I'm a guy, and you aren't allowed to beat Whitney off with a stick because Lana likes him, so everybody else is fair game instead."

Lex blinked. _Huh,_ he thought in amazement. _Well, now I know why he looked to me for permission..._

Nell looked a little shocked, then laughed outright, and said, "Oh, really? But everybody likes Whitney, don't they?"

"Yes," Clark said curtly. "Everybody likes Whitney."

The two of them stared each other down, Nell's a bit more considering, and Clark's far more belligerent.

"And here I'd thought you'd been sticking to the outskirts, acting like a little creep, all for no reason," she said lightly, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at him, as if studying him in another light.

Clark tensed.

A few uncomfortable seconds passed, and then Nell got a smile that even Lex couldn't read.

"Well, I did tell you that he knew why, didn't I?" she told Lex. She nodded her goodbyes, thanked Lex for hearing her out -- he had her contact information -- and told him that he should call if and when he wanted to tour the properties to get a better feel for them in the future.

And then one of his staff escorted her to a waiting car.

 _That woman knows something,_ Lex thought, as he watched her go.

"She doesn't like me," Clark put out there.

"Yes, I'd noticed," Lex told him. "You're lucky." _She's perfectly willing to keep what she knows to herself._

"Huh?"

 _Ah._ Lex was reminded that this was not Metropolis, though _that_ woman would fit right in. "She's honest in her dislike. She's not about to stab you in the back. If anything, she'd stab you in the front." He paused. "And she'd probably warn you beforehand that she was going to do it, too."

"...I think I'd like it better if she liked me," Clark said uncertainly.

Lex looked over at him, suprirsed. "Really?"

Clark got a grumpy look and crossed his arms. " **No.** "

Lex let out a soft laugh. "Fair enough," he said, then shooed Clark off into the dining room for something to eat. "I assume that all your homework's done?" he asked innocently.

"Leeeeex!" came the teenaged whine.

 _And I bet you thought that only the younger sibling got to tease the older,_ Lex thought smugly. _Hah! Guess again!_

~*~*~*~*~*~

_**Meanwhile, on the other side of town...** _

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chloe thanked her dad, got out of the car, and walked into the graveyard slowly. She'd asked around and heard that Lana sometimes visited her parents' gravesite at night, but while that was the most morbid thing Chloe's ever heard, it was all she'd had to go on. Lana hadn't been at her house, and they'd had to drive by the gravesite on the way back, so Chloe had thought, 'well, why not?'

Then she heard soft muttering -- or was it low speaking? -- in one direction, and for a second her hair nearly stood on end.

"...Hello?" she called, wondering if she was gonna need her taser for the latest Smallville weirdness, and boy was she surprised when she got a "Hello?" back!

"Hold on..." she muttered, moving forward in the direction of the reply-call, because that had sounded familiar. Then she came to a screeching halt. " _Lana??_ "

"Oh," said Lana, standing up and dusting off her knees as she turned. "Hi."

"Hey," Chloe said, kind of at a loss, then... "I mean-- wow, I thought your cheer squad was pulling one over on me, because, really, regular nighttime visits to the cemetery?" she admitted. "How the heck do you get away with wearing pink? That's so... _goth!_ "

Lana looked a little startled, then laughed. It was kind of like watching her light up from the inside-out.

 _Huh,_ thought Chloe.

"So, you were looking for me?" Lana asked, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear.

"Uh, yeah," Chloe said. "Kind of awkward. Um. So, I was telling my dad about school today over dinner? And he kind of brought up that maybe it might be a good idea to make sure that, uh, I didn't, like, scar you for life or accidentally make you madly fall in love with me or something by kissing you." She paused, then barreled on. "Or get slapped once you got your act together for not asking first." She sighed. "Also, I should warn you, I'm kind of straight."

"My broken heart weeps," Lana informed her, laying a palm over her chest.

"Okay, wow, sassy head cheerleader," Chloe snarked, coming in a little closer and sitting down on a gravestone. " _That's_ new."

Lana smiled.

Then she said, "Actually, you're a pretty good kisser. I'm thinking about making Whitney ask you for tips."

Chloe stared at her for a moment, because Lana had said that like she was joking, but...

"Ho-ly crap," she breathed out. " _Please_ tell me you're joking," she said desperately. "My dad will kill me if I bring home a girlfriend, even accidentally. He thinks I'm too young to date!"

Lana blushed a little, realizing she'd been caught out. "You really don't have anything to worry about," she told her. "I really do prefer guys over girls, and... well, you're not _that_ good a kisser."

Chloe winced slightly. "Um. ...Good to know?"

"If you could maybe not tell my Aunt Nell that, though..." Lana looked a little worried. "She already worries about beating off the guys with a stick. If she thought she had to police the girls, too..."

Chloe huffed. "What am I, a gossip columnist? Like I care who's banging who."

Lana winced, and Chloe went, " _Seriously?_ " Then she thought about that for a moment. "Wow. Never thought I'd say this, but... mad props to Fordman. Didn't think he could be that patient. About anything."

"Whit's sweet," Lana told her. She walked over to sit down next to Chloe. "Though sometimes I think Whit's so overprotective because of my aunt. Like, if he beats the rest of the guys off with a stick, then my aunt only has to worry about beating him off with a stick." She made a 'sigh, silly boys' face. "And this supposedly would make her like him better, because she only has to keep an eye on _him_."

"That... is some really convoluted boy logic," Chloe put out there. "Are you sure it's not just alpha male hormonal posturing? I hear that goes a long way towards explaining boys."

Lana sighed. "Sometimes Whitney says things when he's been drinking. Mostly coherently."

Chloe started to giggle.

"Anyway, no hard feelings, okay?" Lana said.

"Hey, that's my line!" Chloe said brightly, teasing. "--But yeah." She thought a moment. "Though how does that work with the rest of the cheer squad?"

Lana rolled her eyes. "Believe me, after seeing somebody pick their toenails with their teeth, they start looking a _lot_ less attractive."

"Wow," said Chloe. "I think I could have gone without the deep insight into the hygiene habits of the inner sanctum of the girls locker room."

Lana got a wicked look in her eyes. "Well, ask a personal question..."

"Point. _Clearly_ I have learned an important life lesson from this."

There was a semi-awkward silence for a few moments.

"So..." Lana said. "How's Clark?"

 _Bwah?_ "Okay, wow, um..." Chloe sort of mentally had to slap herself for a moment. "He's okay. Sort of. -The rentboy thing is bogus, by the way -- I tried to get that out there."

"I heard," Lana said. "Lex Luthor drove himself off a bridge?"

"And Clark played hero and fished him out," Chloe concluded. She'd gone after that police report after getting pictures of the broken display case.

"Was he drunk?"

Chloe blinked. "Luthor?" Lana nodded. "Not according to the ambulance staff who checked him over."

"Okay but how is Clark?" Lana asked again. "I didn't see him on the bus this morning, and... well, he didn't just stay the night with Pete?"

Chloe stared at her.

"...How do you know about my friends?" she asked, feeling a little paranoid.

Then Lana said, "Because we used to be friends, back in elementary school," and Chloe had to pick her jaw up off the ground.

"You're shitting me!"

Lana shook her head slightly, looking a little like a tame L'Oreal commercial.

"No way."

"Yes way," Lana smiled kindly, and absently pushed her hair behind an ear again. "Me, Pete, Clark, and Greg used to play together in Greg's treehouse when we were little sometimes; Nell would watch us others. It was kind of fun."

Chloe was speechless.

...Well, for all of two seconds. "Why did you guys stop hanging out?" She frowned. "Male hormones?"

"I don't know," Lana said. "My Aunt Nell stopped inviting Clark and the others over, and... I guess we drifted apart."

"And now Clark turns into a total spaz case whenever you get within five feet of him."

Lana sighed, and gave her a look that was...

"...Are you _jealous?_ " Chloe asked, shocked. "Of _me?_ "

"I miss being able to talk with him," Lana admitted. Then, horror-of-all-horrors, she said, "Maybe if you and he got together...?"

Chloe stared at her.

"Well, you like him, don't you? I've seen the way you look at him."

Chloe stared at Lana.

She realized that there was no way she was going to be able to bullshit herself out of this one -- Lana didn't just _know_ , she was _sure_.

Chloe covered her face with her hands and groaned. "Oh god, is it really that obvious?"

"Only when you look at him like--"

"--Clark is oblivious!" Chloe cut in. "End of story! He's had this huge crush on you forever--"

"Chloe," Lana said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Clark's a good friend and all, but Whit's a _great guy_. I'm not interested in Clark." And there was an unspoken question in there.

"Oh god," Chloe moaned, dropping her hands into her lap, then tossing them up to the sky. "I am going to hell. There is going to be soul-selling involved here, isn't there? I'm pretty sure this is how it goes!"

Lana laughed. "Chloe, he talks to you. I don't think he'll do the 'spaz out' thing with you if you're going out," Lana told her. "And if he's seeing you... I don't think he'll look twice at me."

"...So, wait," Chloe said. "You... are offering... to help me catch Clark..."

"Uh huh." Lana smiled.

"...so that you... can talk to him again?"

"What, that's not a good reason?"

Chloe bit her lip. "Sorry, I just have this crazy feeling that there should be some sort of 'me getting drenched in pig's blood' thing involved with this plan." At the long look Lana gave her, she added, "I blame every high school movie ever. And this graveyard."

"Well, unfortunately, we don't have pigs on my farm, only horses. You'd have to settle for horse blood," Lana deadpanned. Then she started giggling at the look on Chloe's face.

"Okay, I think I have a bone to pick with Clark," Chloe fumed. "And maybe Pete. --We could have known each other since last year!"

"Why _didn't_ we ever talk before?" Lana asked her seriously.

Chloe sighed the sigh of the social outcast to the extremely ultra-popular. "Because we're on completely opposite ends of the social ladder at school?"

Lana sighed. "Well, that's a dumb reason."

Chloe couldn't help but give her a quirky smile.

"Hey," Chloe said. "Y'know, if you're done here for the night, 'cause it's getting kind of dark and all, my dad drove me over here. I know your house is close by, but he could give you a ride back instead of you walking?"

"Oh, I don't know," Lana said, standing up. "What if he thinks I'm your secret girlfriend or something?"

Chloe pushed off the gravestone and said, mock-sadly, "Well, I guess it'll just be the cross I have to bear."

Lana giggled.

"So..." Chloe said. "What are we gonna call this thing with Clark? The super-secret get-Clark-to-notice-the-right-girl plan?"

"Hm." Lana smiled. "Sounds a little long. How about, 'Operation: Girlfriends'?"

"Ooh, I like!" Chloe grinned.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Whitney was hiding in the bushes by Lana's house, waiting for her to get home.

To say that he wasn't really pleased to see Sullivan dropping her off, or her dad yell something about not kissing her goodnight on the porch and the freshman yell something back about first dates and expectations, well...

After Sullivan walked her to the porch and waved goodbye -- _yeah, you better **not** get your lips near her again_ \-- and her dad drove her off, Whit waited until Lana wasn't looking, then poked his head up to startle her and make himself known.

"Whit," Lana said under her breath, "What are you doing here??"

They didn't get to hang out much, but she did let him borrow her necklace for luck at the big game, which was a bonus.

\--He also made up his mind to keep an eye on this Sullivan girl. Lana might be blowing it off, saying that she'd 'talked it out with her' and that 'everything was fine,' and he had 'nothing to worry about,' but just because Lana wasn't taking it seriously didn't mean Sullivan wasn't either.

Because, Christ, didn't Lana get it? This girl had grabbed her and kissed her in the middle of the school, and then stalked her -- she'd tracked her down in the graveyard! Not many people knew Lana went over there, would know they'd find her there.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next night, Whitney snuck into the graveyard to watch over Lana.

He was about to leave quietly, telling himself that maybe he _was_ being paranoid, and starting to feel really guilty for not listening to Lana...

...when Sullivan showed up.

He watched from the shadows as Lana greeted her warmly and they sat down together by Lana's parents' grave.

Sullivan had a backpack with her. It looked like she'd brought candles, and... nailpolish, and... snacks...? She shared everything, and after some token protesting by his girlfriend they each painted the other's nails.

And every time Sullivan said something that made Lana laugh, his jaw clenched that much tighter.

~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
